The    Further  Adventures   of 
Quincy   Adams   Sawyer 

and  Mason's  Corner  Folks 


"  HE  LOOKED  UP,   SUDDENLY,  AND  SAW    A    PRETTY    GIRL, 
DRESSED    IN    PICTURESQUE    ITALIAN    COSTUME." 


THE 

FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF 
QUINCY  ADAMS  SAWYER 

AND  MASON'S  CORNER   FOLKS 


A  Novel 
By 

Charles  Felton  Pidgin 

Author  of  "  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,"  "  Blennerhassett,' 
"  Stephen  Holton,"  etc. 


Illustrated  by 

Henry  Roth 


GROSSET   C&    DUNLAP 

Publishers          <*          New  York 


Copyright,  1909 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED  ) 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 
All  rights  reserved 


DORA 


1496323 


Preface 


EIGHT  years  ago,  "  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  and 
Mason's  Corner  Folks  "  was  published,  being  her- 
alded, truthfully,  as  the  work  of  an  "  unknown 
author."  It  met  with  favour  from  reviewers  and 
the  reading  public.  My  pleasantest  souvenirs  are 
hundreds  of  letters,  from  personally  unknown 
correspondents,  wishing  to  know  more  about 
"  Quincy "  and  the  other  characters  in  my  first 
story. 

I  know  that  few,  if  any,  "  sequels  "  are  consid- 
ered as  interesting  as  the  original  work,  and  an 
author,  to  a  certain  extent,  tempts  fate  in  writing 
one.  But  if  we  visit  friends  and  have  a  pleasant 
time  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  another  invi- 
tation should  not  be  accepted.  So,  if  a  book  pleases 
its  readers,  and  the  characters  therein  become  their 
friends,  why  should  not  these  readers  be  invited  to 
renew  their  acquaintance? 

They  may  not  enjoy  themselves  as  much  as  at 
their  first  visit,  but  that  is  the  unavoidable  result 
vii 


viii  PREFACE 


of  repetition.  The  human  mind  craves  novelty,  and, 
perhaps,  the  reader  will  find  it,  after  all,  within 
these  pages. 

c.  F.  P. 

WIDEVIEW  FARM,  BELMONT,  MASS. 
August,  1908. 


Contents 


PREFACE vii 

I.  THE  GOVERNOR'S  SPEECH       ....  i 

II.  A  DAY  WITH  THE  GOVERNOR        .       .       .  n 

III.  A  VACATION  AT  FERNBOROUGH      ...  24 

IV.  THE  HAWKINS  HOUSE 41 

V.  *ZEKE  PETTINGILL'S  FARM       ....  49 

VI.  "  JUST  LIKE  OLD  TIMES  "      ....  64 

VII.  STROUT  AND  MAXWELL'S  GROCERY       .       .  77 

VIII.  UNCLE  IKE  AND  OTHERS         ....  91 

IX.    A  "  STORY  "  SERMON 103 

X.    THE  RAISED  CHECK in 

XI.  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  ALTONIA     .       .       .123 

XII.    FERNBOROUGH  HALL 133 

XIII.  "  HORNABY  HOOK  " 139 

XIV.  AN  AMERICAN  HEIRESS 150 

XV.    AN  ELOPEMENT 162 

XVI.    YOUNG  QUINCY 177 

XVII.    His  FATHER'S  FRIENDS 185 

XVIII.  AN  OLD  STRIFE  RENEWED      .       .       .       .192 

XIX.     BOYHOOD  TO  MANHOOD 211 

XX.    MARY  DANA 230 

XXI.    AT  HARVARD 252 

XXII.    ALICE'S  DREAM 268 

XXIII.  "  BY  THE  BEAUTIFUL  BLUE  DANUBE  "        .  273 

XXIV.  "  WE  THREE  " 277 

XXV.  A  PERIOD  OF  TWENTY-THREE  YEARS  .        .  288 

ix 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXVI. 

"  CATESSA  "                       .... 

PAGE 

204. 

XXVII. 
XXVIII. 
XXIX. 
XXX. 

O.  STROUT.     FINE  GROCERIES 
THE  HOME  COMING                                / 
THE  FINAL  CONFLICT       .... 
TOM,  JACK  AND  NED       .... 

•      304 
.      3IO 
.      3l8 
??O 

XXXI. 
XXXII. 

THE  GREAT  ISBURN  RUBY 
"  IT  WAS  so  SUDDEN  "   . 

•     349 

*6a 

The  Further  Adventures  of 
guincy  Adams  Sawyer 

and  Mason's  Corner  Folks 


CHAPTER    I 
THE  GOVERNOR'S  SPEECH 

WHEN  the  applause  had  subsided,  Governor  Saw- 
yer began  to  speak. 

"  My  Friends  and  Fellow  Citizens :  When  I 
stood  before  the  representatives  chosen  by  the  peo- 
ple, and  an  audience  composed  of  the  most  eminent 
men  and  women  in  the  State,  and  took  the  oath 
to  support  the  constitution  of  my  native  State  and 
that  of  my  country,  my  heart  was  filled  with  what 
I  deemed  an  honest  pride.  My  fellow  citizens  had 
chosen  me  to  fill  the  most  exalted  position  in  their 
power  to  bestow,  and  when  the  Secretary  of  the 
Commonwealth  uttered  the  well-known  words  which 
your  toastmaster  has  just  repeated  —  God  save  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  —  I  felt  in  every 
l 


2  THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

fibre  of  my  body  that  I  would  be  true  to  my  oath 
and  to  the  people  who  had  shown  their  confidence 
in  me. 

"  But  the  satisfaction  I  felt  on  that  occasion  was 
no  greater  than  that  which  I  experience  to-night.  I 
came  among  you  entirely  unknown.  I  have  heard 
that  some  wondered  whether  I  was  a  city  swell, 
what  my  business  was,  what  led  me  to  choose  your 
town  for  a  vacation,  and  how  long  that  vacation 
was  to  be,  especially  as  I  came  in  the  winter  when 
country  life  is  popularly,  but  erroneously,  supposed 
to  be  dull. 

"  By  some  I  was  welcomed,  —  others  —  I  don't 
blame  them  —  refused  to  extend  to  me  the  hand  of 
fellowship.  But,  I  liked  some  of  your  people  so 
well  —  and  one  in  particular  "  —  all  eyes  were 
turned  towards  his  wife,  who  bore  the  scrutiny 
bravely  —  "  that  I  determined  to  stay  —  and  I  did." 

Hiram  Maxwell  could  not  forget  past  events  in 
which  he  had  figured  prominently  and  cried,  "  Three 
cheers  for  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,"  which  were 
given  with  a  will,  and  accompanied  by  many  ex- 
pressions of  approval  in  the  shape  of  clapping  of 
hands,  pounding  of  canes,  and  stamping  of  thick- 
soled  boots.  The  Governor  continued  his  remarks. 

"  I  staid  so  long  that  I  might  have  become  a 
voter.  I  did  not,  but  besides  my  native  city  of 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER  3 

Boston,  I  shall  always  render  my  allegiance  to  this 
town,  which  turned  the  current  of  my  life  into  such 
happy  channels. 

"  I   will  not  weary  you   with  a   long   speech." 

Cries  of  "  Go  on,"  "  We  can  stand  it,"  came  from 
all  parts  of  the  hall,  and  Mrs.  Hawkins  said  to 
Olive  Green,  "  He's  a  beautiful  speaker.  I  could 
listen  to  him  all  night  if  it  wa'n't  for  gettin'  break- 
fast for  my  boarders.  My  bread  didn't  ris  worth 
a  cent,  and  I've  got  to  git  up  airly  and  make  bis- 
cuits." 

His  Excellency  went  on,  "I  want  you  to  make 
Fernbo rough,  the  Mason's  Corner  of  five  years  ago, 
a  beautiful  town  —  more  beautiful  than  it  is  now. 
Make  good,  wide  roads,  don't  call  them  streets, 
and  have  wide  tires  on  your  wagons  to  preserve 
them.  Plant  trees  both  for  grateful  shade  and  nat- 
ural beauty.  Support  your  Village  Improvement 
Society  by  suggestions  and  contributions.  Attend 
town  meeting  regularly,  be  economical  but  not 
stingy  in  your  appropriations,  pay  good  salaries 
and  wages  for  honest  service.  Be  partisans  if  you 
wish,  in  State  and  National  elections,  but  in  choos- 
ing your  town  servants,  get  the  best  men  regardless 
of  politics. 

"  Support  and  constantly  aim  to  elevate  the  stand- 
ard of  education  in  your  schools,  and  remember 


4  THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

that  the  mother  and  the  teacher  are  the  makers  of 
those  who  are  to  rule  in  the  future. 

"  Do  these  things,  and  you  will  make  Fernbor- 
ough  a  worthy  member  of  that  galaxy  of  communi- 
ties which  represents  the  civic  virtues  and  possibil- 
ities in  the  highest  degree  —  our  New  England 
towns,  in  which  the  government  is  by  the  people, 
of  the  people,  and  for  the  people,  and  may  God 
grant  that  these  bulwarks  of  our  freedom  may  ever 
be  preserved." 

It  was  decided  by  the  committee  to  have  a  recep- 
tion in  the  Selectmen's  room.  It  was  conveniently 
arranged  for  such  a  purpose,  having  a  door  at  either 
end,  besides  the  double  one  near  the  middle.  At 
the  request  of  Selectman  and  Toastmaster  Strout, 
the  Governor  and  his  wife  and  the  Countess  of 
Sussex,  formerly  Lindy  Putnam,  stood  in  line  to 
greet  the  citizens  of  Fernborough. 

First  came  Benoni  Hill,  who  had  increased  in 
rotundity  since  selling  his  grocery  store  and  giving 
up  an  active  life. 

"How  much  is  flour  a  barrel?"  asked  Quincy 
as  he  shook  hands  with  him. 

"  When  I  kept  the  store  myself  everything  I 
wanted  I  got  at  wholesale,  but  now  your  partners 
charge  me  full  price." 

"  That's  right,"  said  Quincy.     "  You  got  a  good 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER  5 

price  for  the  store,  and  now  we're  trying  to  get 
some  of  it  back,"  and  he  laughed  heartily  as  he 
extended  his  hand  to  young  Samuel  Hill.  His  wife, 
the  former  Miss  Tilly  James,  was  with  him. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  meet  a  lion-tamer,"  said  Tilly. 

"  I  never  saw  a  live  one,"  said  Quincy,  somewhat 
puzzled  by  the  remark. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  have.  Our  local  lion,  Obadiah 
Strout,  is  as  tame  as  a  dove,  and  we  owe  it  to 
you." 

"If  I  remember  aright,  a  certain  Miss  Tilly 
James  aided  me  when  I  gave  the  first  lesson." 

"  Oh !  you  mean  the  time  you  whistled  *  Listen 
to  the  Mocking  Bird/  I  wish  you  had  repeated  it 
to-night." 

Cobb's  Twins,  William  and  James,  with  their 
wives,  were  next  in  line. 

"  How's  farming  ?  "  asked  Quincy. 

"  Bill  and  I,"  said  James,  "  spend  most  of  our 
time  on  our  own  places,  but  we  help  'Zeke  and 
Hiram  out  on  their  hayin'  an'  potato  diggin'." 

"  Samantha,"  said  Quincy,  addressing  Mrs. 
James  Cobb,  "  do  you  remember  the  first  time  I 
came  to  see  Miss  Putnam?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'd  heard  about  you  goin*  round  with 
Huldy  Mason.  Didn't  I  laugh  when  I  showed  you 
into  Aunt  Heppy's  room?  She  did  the  hearin'  for 


6  THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

both  of  'em,  for  you  remember  her  husband,  Silas, 
was  as  deaf  as  a  stone  post." 

"  Mrs.  Putnam  found  out  all  about  me  before  I 
got  away.  I  shall  never  forget  what  she  told  me 
about  her  husband  sitting  on  the  ridge  pole  of  the 
barn,  blowing  his  horn,  and  waiting  for  Gabriel  to 
come  for  him." 

As  Robert  Wood  came  up,  Quincy  stepped  from 
the  line  to  greet  him. 

"  Your  hand  ain't  quite  as  hard  as  it  was  five 
years  ago,"  said  Robert. 

"  No,  I'm  out  of  practice.  You  could  handle  me 
now." 

"  It  cost  me  two  dollars  to  get  my  watch  fixed," 
said  Robert,  irrelevantly. 

"  I  was  on  time  in  that  affair,"  said  Quincy,  con- 
scious, when  too  late,  that  he  had  wasted  a  pun  on 
an  obtuse  individual.  "  Are  you  still  carpenter- 
ing?" 

"  Yes.  Lots  of  new  houses  going  up,  and  Ben 
Bates  and  me  have  all  we  can  handle.  Here,  Ben, 
come  here.  The  Governor's  askin'  'bout  you." 

Benjamin  Bates  was  rather  diffident,  and  had  been 
holding  back,  but  at  Bob's  invitation  came  fonvard. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Governor  ?  "  was  his  salutation. 
Diffidence  when  forced  to  action  often  verges  on 
forwardness. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER  7 

"  Glad  to  meet  you  again,"  said  Quincy.  "  Rob- 
ert says  they  keep  you  busy." 

"  Yes,  we  don't  have  so  many  resting  spells  now 
they  use  donkey  engines  as  we  did  when  Pat  or 
Mike  had  to  climb  the  ladder." 

"  The  march  of  improvement  forces  us  all  into 
line,"  said  Quincy  as  he  greeted  Miss  Seraphina 
Cotton. 

"  Teaching  school,  now,  Miss  Cotton  ?  " 

"  No,  your  Excellency,  I  am  fortunately  relieved 
from  what  became,  near  the  end  of  my  long  years 
of  service,  an  intolerable  drudgery.  Teaching 
American  children  to  talk  English  is  one  thing,  but 
teaching  French  Canadians,  Poles,  Germans,  Rus- 
sians, Italians,  and  Greeks  was  quite  a  different 
proposition." 

"  And  yet  it  is  a  most  important  work,"  said 
Quincy  —  "  making  good  citizens  from  these  vari- 
ous nationalities.  America,  to-day,  is  like  a  large 
garden,  with  a  great  variety  of  flowers  from  foreign 
stalks." 

Miss  Cotton  smiled  somewhat  satirically.  "  I'm 
afraid,  your  Excellency,  if  you'd  ever  been  a  school 
teacher,  you'd  have  found  many  weeds  in  the  gar- 
den." 

"  But  how  did  you  gain  your  freedom  ?  "  asked 
Quincy.  "  Did  they  pension  you  ?  " 


8  THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Oh,  no.  An  uncle  died  out  West  and  left  me 
enough  with  which  to  buy  an  annuity.  I  board 
with  the  Reverend  Mr.  Howe.  You  remember 
him?" 

"  Why,  certainly,  I  do.  And  here's  his  son,  Em- 
manuel —  have  I  got  the  name  right?  " 

"  Yes,  Governor,  just  right  as  to  sound.  I  spell 
it  with  an  '  E  '  and  two  M's,"  said  young  Mr.  Howe, 
as  Miss  Cotton  moved  on  to  tell  of  her  good  fortune 
to  Alice  and  Linda. 

"  How's  your  father,  now  ?  Does  he  preach  every 
Sunday  ?  " 

"  Reg'lar  as  clock  work.  Of  course  I  couldn't 
tell  everybody,  but  I  reckon  he's  using  some  old 
sermons  that  he  wrote  forty  years  ago,  but  the 
young  ones  never  heard  them,  and  the  old  ones 
have  forgotten."  Quincy  laughed.  Ministers'  sons 
are  seldom  appalled  by  worldly  ways  and,  quite 
often,  adopt  them. 

"  This  is  Arthur  Scates,"  said  Mr.  Strout,  as  he 
presented  a  young  man  with  sunken  cheeks,  hollow 
eyes,  and  an  emaciated  body.  "  He  ain't  enjoyin' 
the  best  of  health." 

"  Ah,  I  remember,"  said  Quincy.  "  You  are  the 
young  man  who  was  to  sing  at  the  concert  when  I 
first  came  here.  I  took  your  place,  and  that  act 
turned  out  to  be  the  most  important  one  in  my  life. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER  9 

I  owe  much  of  my  present  happiness  to  you.  What 
is  your  trouble?  " 

"  My  lungs  are  affected.  I  have  lost  my  voice 
and  cannot  sing.  I  had  counted  on  becoming  an 
opera  singer." 

"  Why  do  you  not  go  to  one  of  the  out-door  hos- 
pitals for  treatment  ?  " 

The  young  man's  face  flushed,  and  he  remained 
silent. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Quincy.  "  I  understand. 
Come  to  Boston  next  week,  to  the  State  House, 
and  I  will  see  that  you  have  the  best  of  treatment." 

"  Wall,  Mr.  Sawyer,  it  does  one's  eyes  good  to 
set  'em  on  you  again.  This  is  Olive  Green,  —  you 
remember  her  sister  Betsey  worked  for  me  when  you 
was  one  of  my  boarders."  The  woman's  voice  was 
loud  and  strident,  and  filled  the  room. 

"  Mrs.  Hawkins,  I  shall  never  forget  you  and 
Miss  Betsey  Green,  and  how  you  both  tried  to  make 
my  stay  with  you  a  pleasant  one." 

"  YouVe  put  on  consid'rable  flesh  since  I  saw 
yer  last.  Guess  you've  been  taking  your  meals 
reg'lar,  which  you  never  did  when  you  lived  with 
me.  But  your  market's  made  now,  and  that  makes 
the  difference.  They  say  folks  in  love  have  poor 
appetites."  She  laughed  loudly,  and  stopped  only 
when  Olive  put  a  restraining  hand  on  her  arm.  "  I 


10         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

hope  Alice  is  a  good  cook,  but  she  never  had  much 
chance  to  learn." 

Quincy  thought  it  was  time  to  change  the  sub- 
ject. "  How's  Mr.  Hawkins?  " 

"  I  tell  him  he's  just  as  lazy  as  ever.  He's  kal- 
kerlatin'  on  getting  three  good  broods  of  chickens. 
He's  gone  on  chickens.  He  wanted  to  come  to- 
night, but  we've  lots  of  boarders,  and  they're  allus 
wantin'  ice  water  or  somethin'  else,  and  so  I  told 
him  he'd  got  to  stay  to  home.  You'll  have  plenty 
of  time  to  see  him  to-morrer." 

Many  others  greeted  the  Governor  and  his  right 
hand  felt  the  effect  of  so  many  hearty  grips,  some 
of  them  of  the  horny-handed  variety. 

The  Cottonton  Brass  Band  was  now  stationed  in 
the  hall,  and  a  short  concert  closed  the  evening's 
entertainment,  which  was  allowed,  by  all,  to  be  the 
most  high-toned  affair  ever  given  in  the  town. 

As  Quincy  laid  his  head  upon  his  pillow  that 
night,  his  mind  reverted  to  his  first  arrival  at  Ma- 
son's Corner,  and  the  events  that  had  taken  place 
since. 

"  Alice,  five  years  ago,  could  your  wildest  imag- 
ination have  conjured  up  such  an  evening  as  this?  " 

"  No,  Quincy.  What  has  taken  place  in  our  lives 
is  truly  wonderful.  My  daily  prayer  is  that  these 
kappy  days  may  last." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         11 


CHAPTER    II 

A   DAY    WITH    THE   GOVERNOR 

GOVERNOR  SAWYER  sat  in  the  Executive  Chamber 
at  the  State  House.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  on  the 
morning  following  the  festivities  at  Fernborough. 
Quincy  and  Alice  had  staid  over  night  at  the  Haw- 
kins'  House,  and  Ezekiel  in  the  morning  urged 
them  strongly  to  wait  a  day  and  see  what  great 
improvements  he  had  made  on  the  old  farm  which 
had  been  so  neglected  during  the  last  years  of  Mrs. 
Putnam's  life.  But  Quincy  said  his  presence  in 
Boston  was  imperative,  that  certain  matters  re- 
quired his  attention,  and  so  the  earliest  train  brought 
him  and  his  wife  to  the  city.  Quincy  left  the  car- 
riage under  the  arch  at  the  State  House. 

Alice  was  driven  to  the  well-known  house  on 
Mount  Vernon  Street,  in  which  Aunt  Ella  had  lived 
so  long,  but  which  had  lost  much  of  its  cheerfulness, 
and  all  of  its  Bohemianism  since  that  lady  had  gone 
to  England  and  become  Lady  Fernborough. 

The  Executive  Chamber  was  a  large  room,  and 
simply  furnished  with  a  flat  top  desk  of  wine-red 


12          THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

mahogany,  a  bookcase,  and  a  few  chairs.  A  door  to 
the  left  led  to  the  office  of  the  private  secretary ;  the 
one  to  the  right  to  a  short  and  narrow  corridor 
across  which  was  the  door  of  the  Council  Chamber 
—  a  room  occupied  by  that  last  link  between  dem- 
ocratic and  aristocratic  government.  It  must  not 
be  inferred  that  the  members  of  the  Council  are 
aristocrats  —  far  from  it,  but  with  the  lieutenant- 
governor  they  form  a  "  house  of  lords  "  which  may 
or  may  not  agree  with  the  policies  of  the  chief  mag- 
istrate. They  can  aid  him  greatly,  or  they  can 
"  clip  his  wings  "  and  materially  curb  his  freedom 
of  action.  The  Council  is  a  relic  of  the  old  pro- 
vincial and  colonial  days,  its  inherited  aristocratic 
body  clothed  in  democratic  garments.  As  its  duties 
could  be  performed  by  the  Senate  without  loss  of 
dignity,  and  with  pecuniary  saving,  its  retention 
as  a  part  of  the  body  politic  is  due  to  the  "  let  well 
enough  alone  "  policy  of  the  American  citizen  which 
has  supplanted  the  militant,  progressive  democracy 
of  his  forefathers. 

At  the  end  of  the  short  corridor  was  the  office 
of  the  Executive  Secretary  and  his  stenographer 
from  which,  through  an  opening  hung  with  por- 
tieres, one  passed  into  the  general  reception  room 
where  the  faithful  messenger  stood  guard,  author- 
ized to  learn  the  business  of  each  new-comer. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYEK  13 

The  private  secretary  had  opened  the  mail  and 
had  assorted  it  as  "  ordinary,"  "  important,"  and 
"  most  important."  For  an  hour  the  Governor  dic- 
tated steadily,  and  it  would  take  several  hours'  click- 
ing of  the  typewriter  before  the  letters  and  docu- 
ments were  ready  for  his  signature. 

The  waiting-room  was  now  filled  with  persons 
desiring  audience  with  his  Excellency.  A  well- 
known  city  lawyer  and  ward  politician  was  the  first 
to  enter. 

"  Good-morning,  Guv'nor." 

The  Governor  arose,  came  forward,  and  extended 
his  hand.  "  Good-morning,  Mr.  Nutting.'** 

"  Are  you  going  to  send  in  the  names  of  the  In- 
dustrial Expansion  Committee  to-day?" 

"  I  have  intended  to  do  so." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  say  a  good  word  for  Mr.  Col- 
lingwood.  He  is  promoting  a  company  to  develop 
water  power  on  the  Upper  Connecticut  above  Hoi- 
yoke.  He  is  a  client  of  mine,  and  I  can  vouch  for 
his  business  ability  and  his  desire  to  improve  and 
increase  our  manufacturing  facilities." 

The  Governor  was  silent  for  a  time.  He  was 
busily  thinking.  No  doubt  this  Mr.  Collingwood 
was  concerned  financially,  indirectly  if  not  directly, 
in  the  proposed  company  he  was  promoting,  and 
perhaps  Mr.  Nutting  himself  would  profit  far  be- 


14          THE    FURTHER    ADVENTURES 

yond  his  normal  legal  fee  if  Mr.  Collingwood  was 
named  on  the  commission.  Mr.  Nutting  noticed 
the  delay  of  his  Excellency  in  replying. 

"  It  will  be  all  right  if  you  send  his  name  in. 
There  will  be  no  doubt  of  his  confirmation." 

Again  the  Governor  thought.  The  four  wheels 
of  the  executive  coach  were  in  good  order,  but, 
apparently,  the  fifth  wheel  had  been  put  in  condi- 
tion for  use,  if  it  became  necessary. 

"  Here  are  Air.  Collingwood' s  endorsements," 
said  Mr.  Nutting,  as  he  placed  a  large  packet  of 
papers  on  the  governor's  desk. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Nutting.  I  will  give  them 
consideration." 

Mr.  Nutting  withdrew,  and  the  lieutenant-gov- 
ernor, who  had  arrived  late,  was  given  prece- 
dence over  the  others  in  the  reception  room.  After 
the  customary  salutations,  the  lieutenant-governor 
seated  himself  in  the  governor's  chair,  which 
Quincy  had  temporarily  vacated,  and  lighted  a 
cigar. 

"  Are  you  going  to  send  in  Venton's  name?  " 

"  He  is  inexperienced." 

"  I  know  it,  but  he'll  learn.  If,  following  prece- 
dent, I  become  your  successor,  he  will  be  of  great 
help  to  me  in  certain  lines." 

There  was  a  slight  frown  on  the  governor's  face. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         15 

"  l\Ir.  Williams,  the  present  head  of  the  depart- 
ment, has  held  it  for  many  years,  is  a  most  efficient 
man,  and  I  have  heard  no  complaints." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  his  Honour,  David  Evans, 
"  but  he's  getting  old,  and  rotation  in  office  is  one 
of  the  principles  of  our  Bill  of  Rights." 

"  I  am  well  aware  of  that,"  said  the  governor, 
"  but  retention  in  office  for  good  and  efficient  serv- 
ice is  one  of  the  principles  of  our  civil  service 
law." 

^  Mr.  Evans  arose  and  flicked  the  ashes  from  his 
cigar  upon  the  rich  carpet  which  covered  the  floor. 

"  Am  I  to  understand  then  that  you  will  renom- 
inate  Williams?  Let  me  say  now  that  there  is 
strong  opposition  to  him  in  the  Council  and  he  may 
fail  of  confirmation.  Will  you  send  Venton's  name 
in  then?  " 

"  I  think  I  should  send  Mr.  Williams'  name  in 
again." 

"  But,  suppose  he  is  turned  down  the  second 
time?  "  asked  Mr.  Evans. 

"  I  think  I  should  continue  sending  in  his  name 
until  good  and  sufficient  reasons  were  given  for  his 
rejection.  This  is  not  a  voting  contest  between  two 
nominees.  I  am  convinced  Mr.  Williams  is  the  best 
man  for  the  place.  Such  being  my  opinion,  to 
withdraw  his  name,  would  be  a  self -stultification, 


16         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

and,  to  speak  plainly,"  —  and  his  jaw  was  firmly 
set,  —  "an  acknowledgment  that  the  Council  is  a 
stronger  arm  of  the  government  than  the  Chief  Ex- 
ecutive." 

Mr.  Evans  was  evidently  indignant.  "  Well, 
Mr.  Venton  is  backed  by  men  who  contribute  heart- 
ily for  campaign  expenses.  If  you  can  get  along 
without  their  aid  this  fall  have  your  man  Will- 
iams," and  Mr.  Evans  strode  from  the  room  with 
a  curt  "  Good-morning." 

The  private  secretary  laid  some  papers  on  the 
governor's  desk.  The  first  one  that  he  examined 
conferred  certain  valuable  privileges,  in  perpetuity, 
upon  a  corporation  without  requiring  any  compen- 
sation for  the  franchise.  The  property  thus  alien- 
ated from  public  use  had  been  paid  for  by  the  peo- 
ple's money.  In  response  to  a  vigorous  push  on 
an  electric  button,  the  private  secretary  appeared. 

"  Send  for  Senator  Downing.  I  must  see  him 
immediately." 

His  Excellency  thought,  "  How  can  the  people's 
so-called  representatives  give  away  the  property  of 
the  people  so  indiscriminately?  It  would  not  do 
to  mention  it,  without  proof,  but  I  am  convinced 
that  all  such  public  robberies  are  for  private  gain. 
Ah,  good-morning,  Senator." 

Senator  Downing  was  a  short,  heavily-built  man, 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         17 

with  dark  hair,  black  eyes,  and  a  jaw  and  chin 
indicative  of  bull-dog  pertinacity. 

"  In  your  bill,  Senate  513,  I  notice  that  the  rail- 
road Company  is  not  called  upon  to  pay  for  the 
great  privilege  conferred." 

"  Why  should  they  ?  It  simply  gives  them  a 
quick  connection  with  tide-water,  and  reduced  trans- 
portation charges  means  lower  prices." 

"  How  will  prices  be  regulated?  "  was  the  Gov- 
ernor's query. 

"  As  they  always  have  been/'  replied  the  Senator 
brusquely.  "  Supply  and  demand  —  " 

"  And  by  combinations  called  trusts,"  added  the 
Governor.  "  Cannot  some  provision  be  made  by 
which  the  Company  will  pay  a  yearly  rental?  It 
will  reduce  the  burden  of  taxation  just  so  much." 

"  Perhaps  if  you  recommend  it,  some  attention 
will  be  given  it,  but  I  should  not  care  to  prejudice 
my  political  standing  by  endorsing  such  an  amend- 
ment." 

"  I  will  consider  the  question  carefully,"  said 
Quincy,  wearily,  as  he  laid  down  the  bill,  and  Sen- 
ator Downing  departed. 

The  next  bill  was  what  was  called  "  a  labour 
measure."  It  gave  members  of  trade  unions  a  right 
demanded  by  them,  called  "peaceful  picketing;" 
in  other  words,  during  a  strike,  the  right  to  use 


18         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

argument,  persuasion,  in  fact  any  rightful  induce- 
ment to  keep  a  non-union  man  from  working  for 
the  "  struck  "  firm  or  corporation.  The  bill  had 
been  passed  by  a  majority  of  48  in  the  House,  and 
by  the  narrow  margin  of  one  vote  in  the  Senate. 
A  tie  had  been  expected  when  the  President  of  the 
Senate,  who  was  a  prominent  manufacturer  was 
counted  upon  to  kill  the  bill.  If  the  Governor 
vetoed  it,  the  Senate  would  probably  sustain  the 
veto,  throwing  the  greater  responsibility  upon  him, 
each  member  voting  against  the  bill  sheltering  him- 
self behind  the  veto.  Thus  do  partisans  play  poli- 
tics with  the  head  of  their  party.  While  he  was 
reading  the  bill  the  lieutenant-governor  was  ushered 
in  again. 

"  Downing  has  been  talking  with  me  about  his 
bill.  He  says  you  are  going  to  veto  it." 

"  I  did  not  say  so.  I  asked  him  his  reasons  for 
turning  over  public  property  for  private  use  and 
gain,  and  he  did  not  seem  well-prepared  to  answer 
me." 

Mr.  Evans  replied,  "  The  best  reason,  to  my  mind 
is,  that  the  heaviest  tax  payers,  members  of  our 
party,  are  all  in  favour  of  the  bill." 

"  Are  they  numerous  enough  to  elect  a  governor 
who  will  do  their  bidding?  " 

"  Perhaps    not,    but    their    money    is    powerful 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER          19 

enough  to  do  it  "  —  he  paused  —  "  if  it  becomes 
necessary." 

The  Governor  arose,  and  Mr.  Evans,  influenced 
by  the  action,  did  the  same.  The  two  men  faced 
each  other. 

"  Mr.  Evans/'  and  the  Governor  seemed  to  in- 
crease in  stature,  "  I  fully  understand  your  last 
remark  —  if  it  becomes  necessary.  You  shall  have 
an  open  field.  I  prize  the  great  honour  that  has 
been  conferred  upon  me  by  placing  me  here,  but  I 
must  confess  I  dislike  the  duties,  circumscribed  as 
they  are  by  personal  and  political  influences.  I  can 
understand,  now,  why  a  ruler  wishes  to  be  an  auto- 
crat. It  is  the  only  way  in  which  he  can  make  his 
personality  a  part  of  his  body.  I  shall  not  be  a 
candidate  for  re-election  this  autumn.  I  wish  my 
personal  freedom  of  action,  and  I  prize  it  more  than 
fame  or  power/' 

"  May  I  mention  your  decision  to  the  leaders  of 
the  party?  " 

"  If  you  so  desire.  From  this  moment  I  am  to 
be  untrammelled  except  by  my  official  oath." 

Mr.  Evans  took  his  leave,  evidently  pleased  with 
a  part  of  what  he  had  heard,  and  in  a  short  time 
was  closeted  with  some  leading  politicians  in  a  pri- 
vate room  of  a  prominent  hotel. 

The  Governor  resumed  his  reading  of  the  labour 


20         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

bill,  but  was  aroused  from  his  contemplation  of  its 
provisions  by  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Amos  Acton. 
Mr.  Acton  was  secretary  of  a  manufacturer's  asso- 
ciation. He  was  tall  and  spare.  His  hair  was  sandy 
in  hue,  and  his  mouth  twitched  nervously. 

"  Your  Excellency,  I  came  to  see  you  about  that 
picketing  bill.  If  it  becomes  a  law  our  manufac- 
turers will  be  driven  from  the  State.  They  are 
now  seriously  handicapped  by  the  vigorous  'provi- 
sions of  existing  laws.  I  trust  your  Excellency 
will  not  add  to  our  present  burdens." 

"  I  have  read  the  bill,  Mr.  Acton.  It  seems  con- 
servative, with  full  provision  for  the  protection  of 
life  and  property." 

'"  That's  not  the  question.  When  Union  men 
strike  we  must  have  the  Non-Union  men  to  fill  their 
places ;  but  this  bill  says  the  Non-Union  man  shan't 
work." 

"  It  says  the  Union  man  may  persuade  him,  peace- 
fully, not  to  work." 

"  We  all  know  what  that  means.  If  he  does 
work,  he  will  be  called  a  '  scab  '  and  his  family 
will  be  ostracized  in  every  possible  way." 

"  It  is  hard  to  draw  the  line,"  said  the  governor. 
"  You  say,  or  imply,  that  every  man  has  a  right  to 
work  for  whoever  will  employ  him.  Granted.  But 
do  you  always  give  him  work  when  he  wants  it? 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         21 

Do  you  pay  him  what  he  asks,  or  do  you  not  fix  the 
rate  of  wage?  You  must  realize  the  fact  that  col- 
lective bargaining  has  superseded  dealing*  with  the 
individual." 

"  Some  of  us  do  not  allow  that/'  said  Mr.  Acton. 

"  I  know  it,  and  that  causes  the  difficulty.  Your 
relations  with  your  employees  should  be  based  upon 
trade  agreements,  legalized  and  strongly  adhered  to 
by  both  sides/' 

"  I  have  just  come  from  a  meeting  of  leading 
manufacturers,"  said  Mr.  Acton,  "  and  they  wished 
me  to  express  to  you  their  urgent  request,  I  may  say 
solicitation,  that  you  will  veto  this  bill." 

After  Mr.  Acton's  departure,  Quincy  rang  for 
his  secretary,  to  whom  he  delivered  the  papers  con- 
taining his  official  decisions. 

Mr.  Williams  was  renominated  for  the  position 
that  he  had  so  long  and  so  ably  filled. 

As  members  of  "  The  Industrial  Expansion  Com- 
mission "  nine  manufacturers  were  named,  one  for 
each  of  the  leading  industries  of  the  State,  chosen 
independent  of  known  or  presumed  political  affilia- 
tions; Mr.  Collingwood's  name  was  not  among 
them. 

A  vigorous  veto  of  the  bill  giving  a  private  cor- 
poration control  of  public  property  was  sent  to  the 
Senate. 


22         THE    FURTHER    ADVENTURES 

The  "  peaceful  picketing  "  bill  was  signed. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  pretty  face  looked  in. 

"  Come  in,  Maude  —  I've  just  finished."  As  the 
secretary  withdrew,  keeping  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
governor's  youngest  sister,  she  advanced  slowly 
into  the  room.  The  door  closed  automatically  and 
Maude  tip-toed  to  her  brother's  side,  returning  his 
welcoming  kiss. 

"  What's  his  name  ?  "  she  asked,  pointing  towards 
the  self-closing  door. 

*'  My  secretary  ?  Harry  Merry,"  said  Quincy, 
"  but  the  press  boys  all  call  him  Sober  Harry." 

"  I  think  he's  just  splendid,"  said  the  impulsive 
Maude  —  "  such  beautiful  eyes !  But  that  isn't  what 
I  came  for.  I  went  up  to  your  house  and  just 
brought  Alice  down  to  ours,  and  she  told  me  all 
about  the  fine  time  you  had  and  your  speech.  Will 
it  be  printed  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Sylvester  Chisholm,  editor  of  the  Fern- 
borough  Gazette  was  there  and  a  faithful  transcript 
of  my  feeble  remarks  will,  no  doubt,  appear  in  his 
paper." 

"  Feeble !  "  said  Maude  contemptuously.  "  Have 
you  been  doing  feeble  things  since  you  came  back  ?  " 

"  No,  Maude,  I  have  done  some  very  strenuous 
things,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  get  home  to  my  fam- 
ily." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         23 

Maude  repeated,  seriously, 

"  To  make  a  happy  fireside  clime 
For  weans  and  wife 
Is  the  true  pathos,  and  sublime, 
Of  human  life. 

"  But  you  are  not  going  home,"  she  continued,  — 
"  you  are  invited  to  dinner  with  your  respected  pa 
and  ma  and  your  two  young  —  " 

"  And  beautiful  sisters,"  added  Quincy  with  a 
laugh.  "  I'll  come,  but  you  must  play  the  latest 
popular  songs  for  me,  and  Alice  will  sing  '  Sweet, 
Sweet  Home,'  and  perhaps  I  can  forget  the  cares 
of  State  —  until  to-morrow,  anyway." 

Maude  flounced  out  of  the  door  tossing  a  kiss 
from  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  to  the  astonishment  of 
Sober  Harry  who  had  just  entered,  and  who  wished, 
from  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  that  the  flying  salu- 
tation had  been  for  him. 


24         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

CHAPTER    III 

A  VACATION    AT    FERNBOROUGH 

THE  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer  did  not  dine 
at  home  that  evening.  Quincy's  mother  said  that 
he  had  gone  to  Salem  but  would  return  later.  After 
dinner  the  little  company  of  five  repaired  to  the 
parlour.  Maude  sang  negro  melodies  despite  the 
protests  of  her  mother,  and  her  sister  Florence's 
assertion  that  they  were  only  sung  at  cheap  variety 
shows. 

"  How  do  you  know  that?  "  cried  Maude.  "  Did 
Reginald  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Who  is  Reginald  ?  "  asked  Quincy. 

"  Oh/'  said  Maude,  tossing  her  head,  "  he's 
Florence's  latest.  She  met  him  night  before 
last  —  " 

"  Maude!  "  Her  sister's  voice  was  full  of  angry 
protest.  "  Don't  say  another  word." 

"  Such  matters,"  said  her  mother  mildly,  "  are 
not  suitable  subjects  for  general  conversation. 
There  is  a  privacy  about  them  which  should  be 
respected." 

"We'll   leave   Florence   out  of   it,    then,"   said 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         25 

Maude.  "  I  met  him  at  Mrs.  Dulton's  reception. 
His  name  is  Capt.  Reginald  Hornaby,  and  he's  the 
fourth  son  of  Sir  Wilfred  Hornaby,  of  Hornaby 
Hook,  Hornaby,  England  —  don't  you  know,"  and 
she  winked  spitefully  at  Florence. 

"  He  told  me  all  that  himself,"  she  continued, 
"  so  I  know  it  must  be  so.  Won't  it  be  nice  to  have 
a  place  in  England  where  we  can  make  ourselves  at 
home?" 

"  Aunt  Ella  will  be  glad  to  see  you  at  any  time," 
remarked  Quincy.  "  Why  don't  you  go  back  with 
her?  She'd  be  delighted." 

"  I  would  but  for  one  thing,"  replied  Maude. 
"  I'm  afraid  I  might  fall  in  love  with  an  English- 
man, and  one  title  in  the  family  is  enough." 

Alice  interposed :  "  Aunt  Ella  has  an  English 
husband  with  a  title." 

"  Yes,"  said  Maude,  "  but  he  has  his  title,  while 
Reggie  is  four  blocks  away  from  the  fire." 

"  You're  as  big  a  tease  as  ever,"  and  Quincy 
drew  his  favourite  sister  towards  him.  "  Don't 
plague  Flossie  any  more.  Think  of  your  possible 
fate.  You  may  marry  a  Jap." 

"  I  know  a  lovely  little  Jap,  now.  His  name  is 
Hioshato  Konuka.  Oh,  Alice,  won't  you  stay  all 
night?  When  are  you  going  on  your  vacation, 
Quincy?" 


26         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  In  about  ten  days,  if  the  legislature  is  prorogued 
by  that  time." 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  asked  his  mother. 

"  Alice  wishes  to  go  to  Fernborough  for  a  week 
or  two,  and  then  we  shall  go  to  Nantucket." 

"  Will  the  Earl  and  Sir  Stuart  pay  us  a  visit?  " 
was  the  next  question. 

"  I  invited  them  in  your  name,  mother,  but  Linda 
and  Aunt  Ella  were  anxious  to  get  back  to  their 
yacht  at  Nantucket.  They  will  sail  from  there  to 
New  York  and  take  the  steamer  home  next  week." 

"  Is  the  Countess  of  Sussex'  sister-in-law,  the 
Lady  Elfrida,  married  yet?"  asked  Florence. 

"  I  understand  she  is  engaged,"  Quincy  replied. 

Maude  was  incorrigible.  "  Reggie  told  me  she 
was  practising  deep  breathing,  owing  to  the  length 
of  the  Episcopal  marriage  service." 

"  Maude,"  said  her  mother  sharply,  "  if  you  were 
not  of  age  I  should  send  you  to  bed." 

"  I'm  going.  Alice,  while  Quincy  runs  up  to  the 
house  to  say  that  you  are  not  coming  home,  you 
come  to  my  room.  I've  some  pretty  things  to  show 
you." 

As  Quincy  walked  up  Walnut  Street,  he  saw  a 
bright  light  in  Dr.  Culver's  window.  He  rang  the 
bell,  and  the  doctor  himself  came  to  the  door. 

"  Is  that  you,  Quincy  ?    Come  in." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         27 

"  Paul,  how  are  you?  " 

"  Fine  as  silk.  Business  is  good,  but  I'm  doing 
my  best  to  keep  the  undertakers  out  of  a  job.  Have 
you  read  the  evening  papers?  " 

"  I  seldom  do.     I  prefer  to  wait  until  morning." 

"  The  papers  are  rapping  you  hard  for  signing 
that  picketing  bill,  but  the  labour  men  are  delighted. 
You'll  run  ahead  of  your  ticket  sure  next  fall." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  run.    One  year  is  enough." 

"  Will  Evans  get  the  nomination  ?  I  won't  vote 
for  him.  How  are  your  wife's  eyes?" 

"  All  right.  She  has  better  vision,  now,  than 
I  have.  We  owe  you  a  great  debt  of  gratitude  for 
sending  us  to  Dr.  Tillotson." 

"  He's  a  wonder.  He  told  me  the  other  day 
that  he  is  going  to  cure  what  is  called  split  retina, 
whicfi  has  never  been  done." 

Quincy  bethought  himself  of  the  message  he  had 
to  deliver  and  made  a  hurried  departure,  first  in- 
viting the  Doctor  to  dine  with  him  the  next  day. 
On  his  return  to  the  Beacon  Street  house,  he  found 
his  father  at  home  reading  an  evening  paper. 

"  Quincy,  I  see  that  you  vetoed  that  railroad 
bill." 

"  Yes,  I  did.  I  saw  no  reason  why  public  prop- 
erty should  be  given  to  a  private  corporation  with- 
out compensation." 


28         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  The  public  would  be  compensated  indirectly. 
I  am  a  large  stockholder  in  the  railroad,  and,  to 
speak  plainly,  I  drew  that  bill  myself.  I  met  Sen- 
ator Downing  and  he  says  the  bill  will  be  passed 
over  your  veto." 

"  I  cannot  help  that,  father.  I  did  my  duty  as 
I  saw  it.  If  the  bill  becomes  a  law  without  my 
signature,  I  cannot  be  blamed  for  future  develop- 
ments." 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  dropped  the  subject. 
"  Quincy,  I  have  purchased  a  house  in  the  coun- 
try and  shall  go  there  in  a  few  days.  Won't  you 
and  your  wife  pay  us  a  short  visit?  " 

"  Certainly,  we  will.  We  are  going  to  Fern- 
borough  for  a  few  days  and  then  will  drop  in  on 
you,  before  we  go  to  Nantucket." 

By  the  look  on  his  father's  face  Quincy  knew 
that  he  was  disappointed.  The  Hon.  Nathaniel 
never  liked  "  to  play  second  fiddle."  Quincy  ha- 
stened to  rectify  his  mistake.  "  We  can  put  it  the 
other  way  round,  just  as  well.  We'll  come  and 
see  you  before  we  go  to  Fernborough." 

"  That  will  please  me  better,  but,  of  course,  you 
must  not  do  it  if  your  wife  objects." 

"  She  will  not  object.  She  is  upstairs,  now,  with 
Maude.  Of  course,  the  girls  are  going." 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  invited  Captain  Hornaby,  a 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         29 

very  fine  young  man.  But,  I  must  retire.  I  have  a 
case  in  court  to-morrow." 

Quincy  found  both  commendation  and  criticism 
in  the  morning  papers.  His  face  wore  its  usual 
genial  expression  as  he  entered  the  elevator,  and 
Robert's  "  good  morning  "  was  particularly  cheer- 
ful. 

The  Governor's  first  caller  was  Mr.  Acton. 

"  You  see,"  he  began,  "  that  your  approval  of  the 
picketing  bill  is  receiving  universal  condemna- 
tion." 

"  Hardly,"  was  the  reply.  "  Two  papers  and 
the  Governor  sustain  it  and  the  labour  press  and 
unions  are  yet  to  be  heard  from." 

"  We  shall  endeavour  to  secure  a  repeal  of  the  bill 
next  year.  In  the  meantime,  we  shall  carry  the 
matter  to  the  courts." 

"  May  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  prevail  in 
the  end  "  was  Quincy's  comment,  and  Mr.  Acton 
took  his  departure  in  an  uncomfortable  state  of 
mind. 

The  day  wore  away.  At  three  o'clock  a  vote 
was  taken  in  the  Senate  and  the  so-called  Downing 
bill  was  passed  over  the  veto.  Not  so,  in  the  House, 
for  one  newspaper,  read  by  nearly  all  the  working 
men,  had  so  strongly  pointed  out  the  nature  of  the 
"  grab  "  proposed  by  the  bill,  that  the  State  House 


30         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

was  besieged  by  its  opponents,  and  the  veto  was 
sustained  by  a  narrow  margin. 

About  five  o'clock,  Mr.  Evans  and  Senator 
Downing  were  dining  in  a  private  room  at  a  hotel. 
"  So,  the  Governor  won't  run  again,"  said  the  Sen- 
ator. 

"  He  so  informed  me  yesterday.  He  may  change 
his  mind." 

"  You're  not  satisfied  with  things  as  they  are," 
remarked  the  Senator. 

"  No,"  replied  the  lieutenant-governor,  "  I'm  dis- 
gusted with  the  Williams  matter.  When  I'm  gov- 
ernor, I'll  request  his  resignation." 

"  And  when  you're  governor,  we'll  put  my  bill 
through.  Do  you  know  the  Governor's  father  is 
one  of  our  heaviest  stockholders?  We'll  have  our 
way  yet." 

Within  a  week  the  legislature  was  prorogued. 
The  House  had  a  mock  session,  during  which  par- 
tisanship, and  private  victories  and  defeats  were 
forgotten,  for  the  time  at  least,  and  the  fun  was 
jolly  and  hearty. 

Ben  Ropes,  the  funny  man  of  the  House,  but  a 
member  of  the  minority,  convulsed  all  by  announ- 
cing his  candidacy  for  the  governorship,  with  the 
understanding  that  no  money  was  to  be  spent,  no 
speakers  engaged,  the  question  to  be  settled  by  joint 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         31 

debates  between  the  opposing  candidates.  Every 
member  of  the  House  arose,  and  amid  wild  cheers, 
pledged  him  their  support. 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer's  estate  at 
Redford  comprised  some  eighty  acres.  Within  five 
minutes'  walk  of  the  house  was  a  sheet  of  water 
covering  fully  fifty  acres  known  as  Simmons'  Pond. 
On  the  farther  side  of  the  pond  were  a  few  cottages 
and  near  them  a  tent  indicating  the  presence  of  a 
camping  party. 

"  Next  year,"  said  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  to  Quincy 
as  they  stood  on  the  shore  of  the  pond,  "  I  am 
going  to  buy  some  twenty  acres  on  the  other  side 
of  the  pond.  Then  I  shall  own  all  the  land  sur- 
rounding it,  and  my  estate  will  be  worthy  of  the 
name  which  I  have  given  it  —  Wideview  —  for  no- 
body's else  property  will  obstruct  my  view  in  any 
direction.  I  shall  name  this,"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
pond,  "  Florence  Lake  after  my  eldest  daughter. 
What  do  you  think  of  Captain  Hornaby  ?  " 

Quincy  hesitated  —  "  He's  a  typical  Englishman 
—  healthy,  hearty,  but  with  that  English  conceit 
that  always  grates  on  my  nerves." 

"Are  we  Americans  free  from  it?"  his  father 
asked.  "  To  my  mind,  conceit  is  often  but  the  indi- 
cation of  self-conscious  power.  Its  possessors  never 


32         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

acknowledge  defeat.  I  have  always  had  that  feel- 
ing in  my  law  practice." 

Quincy  changed  the  subject,  "  What  have  you  in 
the  boat  house?  " 

"  Canoes  —  three  canoes.  I  have  ordered  a  large 
row-boat  but  it  is  not  ready  yet.  When  I  own  the 
1  lake  '  and  the  land  beyond,  my  residence  will  stand 
in  the  centre  of  my  estate.  I  shall  retire  from  prac- 
tice in  a  few  years,  and  spend  my  last  days  here. 
We  all  have  to  go  back  to  the  soil  and  I  am  going 
to  make  my  progress  gradual." 

"  Won't  you  find  it  rather  dull  here  after  so  long 
an  active  life  in  the  city?  " 

"  Not  dull,  but  quiet,"  was  the  dignified  response. 
"  I  shall  pass  my  time  surveying  the  beauties  of 
Nature  to  which,  to  my  discredit,  I  have  been  so 
long  oblivious ;  then,  I  shall  commune  with  the  great 
minds  in  literature,  and  read  the  latest  law  reports." 

Quincy  wondered  whether  Nature,  literature,  or 
law  would  be  his  father's  most  appreciated  relaxa- 
tion, but  inclined  to  the  latter. 

The  next  morning  Maude  exclaimed :  "  Let's 
have  some  fun.  What  shall  we  do?  " 

"  There  are  three  canoes  in  the  boat  house,"  said 
Quincy,  "  why  not  a  row  on  the  pond  ?  " 

"  Fine !  "  cried  Maude.  "  Quincy,  you  are  a  man 
of  ideas." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         33 

Captain  Hornaby  had  asked  Florence  to  go  with 
him  and  she  had  willingly  consented.  This  em- 
boldened Harry  Merry,  who  had  come  down  from 
the  State  House  with  the  Governor's  correspond- 
ence, and  he,  rather  bashfully,  requested  Maude's 
company  in  the  third  canoe. 

"  Can  you  swim?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  learned  when  a  boy,"  said  Harry. 

"  All  right.  I  don't  believe  the  style  has  changed 
much  since  then.  I  wouldn't  go  with  you  unless 
you  could  swim.  It  would  be  too  great  a  responsi- 
bility." 

Harry  thought  to  himself  that  he  would  be  willing 
to  swim  ashore  with  such  a  "  responsibility  "  in  his 
arms. 

Maude  turned  to  the  Captain :  "  Can  you  swim, 
Captain  Hornaby  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  Miss  Maude.  We  Englishmen  are 
all  sea  dogs,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  But  Englishmen  are  drowned  sometimes,"  said 
Maude.  "  How  about  Admiral  Kempenfelt  and  the 
Royal  George?  See  Fourth  Class  Reader  for  full 
particulars  in  verse." 

The  three  couples  were  soon  afloat  —  Quincy  and 
Alice,  Captain  Hornaby  and  Florence,  Harry  and 
Maude. 

"Let's  have  a  race,"  cried  Maude.     "To  that 


34         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

big  white  rock  down  there,"  and  she  pointed  to 
the  farther  end  of  the  pond.  Harry  took  the  lead 
with  short,  swift  strokes,  but  the  long,  steady  pad- 
dling of  Captain  Hornaby  gained  on  him  steadily, 
and  to  Maude's  disgust  the  Captain  reached  the 
rock  first,  Harry  being  a  close  second,  and  Quincy 
a  late  third. 

Maude  was  excited.  "  Let's  race  back  to  the  boat 
house.  A  prize  for  the  first  one  who  reaches  it." 

"  What  will  be  the  prize?  "  asked  the  Captain. 

Maude  saw  that  Harry  needed  encouragement. 

'"  I  haven't  anything  with  me  but  kisses  and  only 
one  of  them  to  spare." 

Harry  shut  his  teeth  with  a  snap.  He  was  going 
to  win  that  race. 

As  they  were  nearing  the  boat  house  Harry  was 
in  the  lead,  the  Captain  close  behind,  with  Quincy 
following  leisurely.  This  was  a  young  people's 
race  —  married  men  barred.  For  some  unexplain- 
able  reason  Captain  Hornaby  tried  to  cross  Harry's 
bow.  The  project  was  ill-timed  and  unsuccessful. 
Harry  had  just  made  a  spurt  and  his  canoe  went 
forward  so  fast  that  the  Captain's  boat,  instead  of 
clearing  his,  struck  it  full  in  the  side  and  Harry 
and  Maude  were  thrown  into  the  water.  Florence, 
who  really  loved  her  sister  despite  their  many  quar- 
rels, gave  a  loud  scream  and  stood  up  in  the  boat. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER         35 

Her  action,  was  fatal  to  its  equilibrium,  and  the 
Captain  and  she  were  soon  in  the  water's  em- 
brace. 

The  accident  occurred  about  two  hundred  feet 
from  the  shore  where  the  water  was  deep.  Captain 
Hornaby  grasped  Florence  and  struck  out  for  the 
boat  house  float.  She  had  fainted  and  did  not  im- 
pede him  by  struggling. 

Harry  had  essayed  to  bear  Maude  ashore,  but 
she  broke  away  from  him  and  swam  vigorously 
towards  land,  Harry  in  pursuit. 

"  Don't  worry,  Alice/'  said  Quincy.  "  They  are 
not  in  danger." 

"  But,  Quincy,  suppose  it  had  been  our  boat." 

"  If  it  had  been,"  said  he,  "  you  would  be  as  safe 
in  my  arms  as  Florence  is  in  those  of  the  Captain, 
providing  you  did  not  struggle." 

Harry  exerted  his  full  strength  and  skill  to  over- 
take Maude,  but  she,  flushed  with  the  excitement, 
her  thin  costume  clinging  close  to  her  form,  reached 
the  bank  some  twenty  feet  ahead  of  him. 

"  I  had  to  do  it,"  she  cried,  "  and  I  suppose  I 
must  deliver  the  prize  by  kissing  myself." 

Then  her  exuberant  nature  gave  way,  and  she 
sank  helpless  to  the  ground.  Harry  did  not  envy 
the  Captain  who  was  carrying  Florence  in  his  arms, 
for  was  not  Maude  in  his  ? 


36         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

In  the  evening  as  they  sat  upon  the  veranda 
watching  the  dying  glories  of  the  sun,  Quincy  said 
to  Maude,  "  Why  didn't  you  let  Harry  bring  you 
ashore?  " 

"  The  idea  of  it,"  she  exclaimed.  "  And  be  under 
obligations  to  him  —  not  on  your  life.  Think  of 
poor  Florence.  If  that  Captain  asks  her  to  marry 
him  she  must  accept  because  he  saved  her  life." 

Later,  when  the  sun  had  set,  and  the  moonbeams 
silvered  the  surface  of  the  pond,  Harry  mustered 
up  courage  to  ask  Maude  what  she  meant  when 
she  said  it  was  too  great  a  responsibility  to  go  out 
canoeing  with  a  man  who  couldn't  swim. 

"  Why,  I  meant  if  you  couldn't  swim  it  might 
be  a  great  job  for  me  to  get  you  ashore.  I  knew 
I  could  take  care  of  myself  all  right." 

At  the  other  end  of  the  veranda  the  Hon.  Na- 
thaniel and  Captain  Hornaby  were  engaged  in  con- 
versation. The  Captain  was  not  asking  the  Hon. 
Nathaniel  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Florence 
but,  instead,  for  a  loan,  giving  as  his  reason  that 
when  he  threw  off  his  coat  his  letters  of  credit  to 
the  value  of  five  hundred  pounds  went  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  pond. 

"  I  shall  have  to  write  home  to  my  brother,  the 
Earl,  for  other  letters,  and  it  will  take  some  time 
for  them  to  reach  me." 


'*  *  IF   YOU    WILL   GIVE  ME  YOUR  NOTE  AT  THIRTY    DAYS  I 
WILL  LET    YOU    HAVE    THE    FIVE    HUNDRED.'  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         37 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  remain  here  until  you 
receive  word,"  said  the  cautious  Hon.  Nathaniel. 

"  I  appreciate  your  great  kindness,"  said  the 
Captain,  "  but  I  must  visit  New  York  and  Chicago 
at  an  early  day." 

"  How  much  will  supply  your  present  need  ?  " 
asked  the  lawyer. 

"  I  had  expected  my  trip  would  cost  me  at  least 
five  hundred  dollars." 

"  If  you  will  give  me  your  note  at  thirty  days 
I  will  let  you  have  the  five  hundred.  I  will  bring 
it  down  to-morrow  night." 

On  the  second  day  following,  the  Captain  took 
an  apparently  very  reluctant  departure. 

A  week  later  Quincy  and  Alice  were  in  Boston 
making  preparations  for  their  trip  to  Fernborough. 

"  I  am  going  to  buy  the  tickets  this  morning, 
Alice  —  we  must  have  seats  in  a  parlour  car.  How 
shall  we  go  —  to  Cottonton  or  Eastborough  Cen- 
tre?" 

"  To  Eastborough  surely,"  said  Alice.  "  We  will 
drive  over  the  old  road.  Do  you  remember  the  day 
that  you  took  me  to  see  Aunt  Heppy  Putnam  after 
her  husband  died?  " 

"  Alice,  every  day  I  passed  at  Mason's  Corner 
near  you  was  like  Heaven  to  me,  and,  now,  for  a 
week  or  more  I  mean  to  live  in  Paradise  again. 


38         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

What  a  joy  it  will  be  to  see  the  old  scenes  and  faces, 
hear  the  familiar  voices,  and  remember  the  happy 
days  we  have  had  there." 

"  I'm  afraid,  Ouincy,  some  of  the  charm  has 
departed.  Things  have  changed,  and,  in  spite  of 
our  resolves,  we  change  with  them." 

When  they  alighted  at  Eastborough  Centre,  Ellis 
Smith  stood  there  with  his  carriage. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Ellis,  and  how's  your  brother 
Abbott  ?  Will  you  take  us  to  the  Hawkins  House  ?  " 
said  Quincy.  Turning  to  his  wife,  he  added,  "  Mrs. 
Hawkins  is  a  good  cook  —  her  rooms  are  large 
and  clean.  We  can  go  a  visiting  during  the  day 
and  have  quiet  times  by  ourselves  when  we  wish." 
His  wife  nodded  her  acquiescence  with  the  plan 
proposed. 

"  Ellis,  can  you  handle  those  two  big  trunks 
alone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Guv'nor.  I'm  a  leetle  bit  heavier  built 
than  Abbott." 

Quincy  drew  Alice's  attention  to  the  Eagle  Hotel. 

"  There's  where  we  hatched  the  plot  that  downed 
Mr.  Obadiah  Strout,  when  he  was  an  enemy  of 
mine.  Say,  Ellis,  drive  up  by  the  Poor  House, 
through  the  Willows,  and  then  back  down  the  Cen- 
tre Road  to  Mason  Street.  That  will  carry  us  by 
some  of  the  old  landmarks." 


OF    QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER         39 

As  they  passed  the  Poor  House  they  saw 
"  pussy "  Mr.  Waters,  sitting  on  the  piazza  and 
Sam  standing  in  the  barn  doorway. 

"  There's  where  my  Uncle  James  died,"  said 
Quincy.  "  Did  I  ever  tell  you,  Alice,  that  he  left 
some  money  and  it  went  to  found  the  Sawyer  Pub- 
lic Library?  He  made  me  promise  not  to  tell  that 
he  left  any,  and  it  has  always  troubled  me  to  re- 
ceive a  credit  that  really  was  not  my  due." 

"  But  you  could  have  kept  the  money,  couldn't 
you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.     He  gave  it  to  me  outright." 

"  Then  I  think  you  are  entitled  to  full  credit  for 
the  good  use  you  made  of  it." 

"  Looking  at  it  that  way,  perhaps  you  are  right, 
Alice.  Here  are  the  Willows." 

"  What  a  lonely  place." 

"  You  didn't  think  so,  Alice,  when  we  used  to 
drive  through  here." 

"  I  was  blind  then  and  couldn't  see  except  with 
your  eyes.  You  didn't  say  it  was  lonesome." 

"  How  could  I  say  so,  when  I  was  with  you  ?  " 

Alice  squeezed  his  hand  lovingly. 

As  they  turned  into  Mason  Street,  Quincy  ex- 
claimed :  "  There's  where  Uncle  Ike's  chicken  coop 
stood  until  he  set  it  on  fire." 

"  Did  he  set  it  on  fire?  "  cried  Alice. 


40         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Now  I've  let  out  another  promised  secret.  Can 
you  see  'Zeke's  house  ahead?  " 

"  Yes,  how  inviting  the  old  place  looks.  I'm  glad 
Hiram  Maxwell  has  it,  for  we  can  sit  in  the  old 
parlour  and  sing  duets  as  we  used  to." 

"  Now  we're  going  up  Obed's  Hill,"  said 
Quincy.  "  Deacon  Mason's  house  looks  as  neat  as 
ever." 

"  Do  you  remember  when  Huldah  Maspn  broke 
her  arm,  Quincy?" 

*'  Do  not  remind  me  of  that,  Alice.  I  was  never 
in  love  with  her,  but  no  one  could  help  liking  her. 
There's  the  grocery  store  in  which  I  am  a  silent 
partner  "  —  he  paused  a  moment  —  "  and  here  we 
are  at  the  Hawkins  House." 

As  Ellis  Smith  reined  up,  the  front  door  was 
opened  and  Mrs.  Hawkins  came  out  to  meet  her 
guests.  "  I  got  your  letter,  an*  I  know'd  it  was 
you.  How  be  ye  both?  Seems  like  old  times. 
Come  right  in  the  parlour.  I've  got  the  curtains 
down  so  as  to  keep  it  cool,"  and  the  delighted 
woman  led  the  way  into  the  house.  In  the  hallway, 
she  screamed,  "  Jonas !  Jonas !  Hurry  up  and  pick 
those  chickens.  Guv'nor  Sawyer  and  Alice  are 
here." 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER         41 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   HAWKINS    HOUSE 

THE  converting  of  Mrs.  Hawkins'  boarding 
house  into  a  hotel  had  been  due  to  two  causes: 
First,  the  thrift  and  economy  of  the  lady  herself, 
which  had  enabled  her  to  put  by  a  good  sum  in  the 
bank.  This  she  expended  in  building  an  ell  with 
extra  sleeping  rooms,  painting  the  structure  cream 
colour  with1  brown  trimmings,  and  replacing  old 
furniture  with  that  of  modern  make.  This  latter, 
she  confessed  within  a  year,  was  a  great  mistake, 
for  the  new  chairs  became  rickety,  the  castors  would 
not  hold  in  the  bed  posts,  the  bureau  drawers  be- 
came unmanageable,  and  the  rooms,  as  she  expressed 
it,  had  a  "  second-hand  "  appearance.  Then  it  was 
that  the  old  mahogany  furniture,  that  had  been 
relegated  to  the  attic,  was  brought  down,  furbished 
up,  and  restored  to  its  original  place.  When 
Quincy  entered  the  room  which  he  had  formerly 
occupied,  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  five  years 
had  elapsed. 


42         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

The  second  cause  that  had  led  Mrs.  Hawkins  to 
change  the  small  and  modest  sign  —  "  Rooms  and 
Board  "  —  which  had  been  in  the  front  window 
for  years,  for  a  large  swinging  sign  over  the  front 
door  —  "  Hawkins  House  "  —  having  large  gold 
letters  on  a  blue  ground  —  was  the  rapid  growth 
of  the  town.  Many  new  mills  had  been  erected  in 
the  neighbouring  city  of  Cottonton.  The  opera- 
tives being  unable  to  obtain  suitable  accommoda- 
tions in  the  city,  had  come  to  Fernborough  to  live, 
where  they  could  have  gardens,  fresh  air,  and  play- 
grounds for  their  children.  Fernborough  became 
to  Cottonton  what  Methuen  is  to  Lawrence.  Mrs. 
Hawkins  was  democratic,  but  shirt-sleeves  and 
Prince  Albert  coats  did  not  look  well  together,  so 
she  had  turned  what  had  been  her  sitting  room 
into  a  private  dining  room,  and  it  was  here  that 
what  she  called  her  "  star  boarders  "  were  served. 

By  the  time  Quincy  and  Alice  had  opened  their 
trunks,  and  distributed  the  contents  in  the  capa- 
cious closet  and  deep,  roomy  bureau  drawers,  the 
cheerful  tones  of  the  dinner  bell  were  heard,  and 
they  descended  to  the  private  room. 

They  were  its  only  occupants. 

"  I  thought  as  how  you  might  be  hungry  after 
so  long  a  ride  an'  so  I  just  hurried  Jonas  up  so 
you  could  begin  afore  the  crowd  came  in.  I  don't 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         43 

introduce  folks  now  I  run  a  hotel.  If  they  gets 
acquainted  it's  their  lookout  not  mine,"  and  Mrs. 
Hawkins  and  Olive  brought  in  the  fare  from  the 
adjoining  kitchen. 

Such  a  meal  for  hungry  people!  Lamb  broth, 
roast  chicken,  yeast  biscuit,  potatoes,  string  beans, 
cucumbers,  lettuce,  berry  pie,  blackberries,  currants, 
frosted  cake,  with  tea,  coffee,  or  cocoa. 

"What  does  she  charge?"  asked  Alice  in  a 
whisper  when  they  were  alone. 

"  A  dollar  a  day  for  room  and  board  —  three 
square  meals  for  board." 

After  dinner  they  went  into  the  parlour,  where 
Mrs.  Hawkins  joined  them. 

"  I  jest  told  Jonas  he  must  help  Olive  wash  the 
dishes  to-day,  for  I  hain't  seen  ye  for  so  long  I'm 
just  dyin'  to  have  a  talk  with  yer,  'cause  I  s'pose 
you'll  eat  and  run  while  yer  here,  you  know  so 
many  folks." 

"  We  haven't  much  to  tell  about  ourselves,"  said 
Quincy.  "  What  we  want  to  know  is  how  Fern- 
borough  folks  are  getting  along." 

"  Wall,  I  s'pos'd  you'd  like  to  hear  what's  goin' 
on  'round  here,  an'  p'raps  I  can  tell  yer  some  things 
that  other  folks  mightn't  mention,  'cause  they'd  for- 
got it,  or  p'raps  wouldn't  want  to  tell.  Is  that  cheer 
comfortable,  Alice?  I  s'pose  I  ought  to  say  Misses 


44         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

Guv'nor  Sawyer,  but  it  don't  come  nat'ral,  I've 
known  yer  so  long." 

"  I  shall  always  be  Alice  to  my  good  friend  Mrs. 
Hawkins  and  her  daughter  Mandy." 

"  Speakin'  o'  Mandy,  you  know  she's  got  two  lit- 
tle boys  —  twins,  one  named  after  Deacon  Mason, 
and  t'other  after  your  husband's  friend  Obadiah 
Strout,  ther  perfesser  —  and  she's  got  a  little  girl, 
nigh  on  ter  two  years  old  named  Marthy  after  me 
—  but  they  don't  call  her  Marthy  —  it's  allus  Mat- 
tie.  These  new-fangled  names  fuss  me  all  up.  If 
Mary  and  Marthy  were  good  enough  for  the  Lord's 
friends,  I  don't  know  what  he'd  think  to  hear  'em 
called  Mamie  and  Mat  tie. 

"  Speakin'  o'  names,  there's  my  Jonas,  which  is 
same  as  Jonah  I  s'pose.  Anyway  it  fits  him  to  a 
T,  for  he's  a  reg'lar  Jonah  if  there  ever  was  one, 
which  our  minister,  Mr.  Gay,  you'll  meet  him  at 
dinner-time  to-morrow,  says  he's  doubtful  about. 

"  If  a  whale  swallowed  my  Jonas  it  couldn't 
keep  him  down,  for  he's  just  satirated  with  tobacco 
smoke  —  he  says  he  has  to  puff  it  on  the  hens  and 
chickens  to  kill  the  varmints,  and  I  should  think  it 
would.  Do  you  smoke,  Mr.  Sawyer?  " 

"  Cigars,  occasionally.  I  am  not  an  habitual 
smoker." 

"  Well,  old  Mr.  Trask  told  me  as  how  pipe  smoke 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         45 

wouldn't  colour  lace  curtains  same  as  cigars  do. 
Now  you  jes'  smoke  all  you  want  to  up  in  your 
room  an'  I'll  see  if  it  washes  out." 

"  Alice  dislikes  smoke,  and  I  never  use  tobacco 
in  her  presence  —  so  your  lace  curtains  won't  suf- 
fer." 

"  Wall,  I'm  kinder  sorry  for  I  wanted  to  see  if 
Doctor  Trask  knew  what  he  was  talkin'  about 
When  I'm  rich  I'll  have  three  doctors  and  two  on 
'em  will  have  to  agree  afore  I'll  take  any  of  their 
pizen.  I  jes'  remembered  that  the  new  minister, 
Mr.  Gay,  smokes.  I'll  put  some  lace  curtains  up 
in  his  room.  You  ain't  seen  him  yet.  He  parts 
his  hair  in  the  middle.  The  gals  are  all  crazy  'bout 
him.  I  like  his  preachin'  putty  well,  but  he  don't 
use  near  as  much  brimstone  as  old  Mr.  Howe  does." 

"  Is  Mr.  Howe's  son  going  to  be  a  clergyman  ?  " 
Alice  asked. 

Mrs.  Hawkins  laughed  raucously. 

"  The  Lord  save  us,  I  guess  not !  Why  Em- 
manuel has  gone  and  married  a  play  actress  —  and 
isn't  she  some?  She  rides  a  hoss  just  like  a  man 
does,  and  the  way  she  jumps  fences  and  rides  hur- 
rah-ti-cut  down  the  street  would  jes'  make  your 
hair  stand  on  end.  She's  away  now  —  I  wish  you 
could  see  her.  Of  course  you're  goin'  over  to  the 
store." 


46         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Why,  certainly,"  said  Quincy.  "  I'm  a  special 
partner,  you  know.  I  shall  call  on  Mrs.  Strout. 
You  remember  the  party  at  Deacon  Mason's,  Alice 
—  I  danced  with  Miss  Bessie  Chisholm  —  " 

Mrs.  Hawkins  couldn't  wait,  "  Yes,  an'  she  made 
the  perfesser  just  the  kind  of  wife  he  needed.  She 
bosses  the  house,  .  .  .  for  I  heard  her  tell  him  one 
day  that  if  he  didn't  like  her  cookin'  he  might  have 
his  meals  at  the  store  —  an'  she  goes  to  dances 
with  her  brother  Sylvester.  Some  folks  think  she's 
a  high-flyer  —  but  I  don't  blame  her  seein'  as  how 
she  has  that  old  blowhard  for  a  husband  —  which 
is  true,  if  he  is  your  pardner." 

Alice  asked  if  the  Strouts  had  any  children. 

"  Yes,  they've  got  a  little  boy,  an'  he's  a  chip  of 
the  old  block.  His  father  brought  him  here  one 
day  and  he  pulled  the  cloth  of'n  that  table  there 
and  broke  a  chiny  vase  that  I  paid  fifty  cents  for, 
and  his  father  never  said  a  word  about  buyin'  me 
another." 

"  I  hope  that  Mr.  Strout  and  Hiram  get  along 
together  well,"  said  Quincy. 

"  Hiram's  a  good  feller.  Mandy  did  well  when 
she  got  him,  but  she  has  you  to  thank  for  it,  Mr. 
Sawyer.  If  you  hadn't  set  him  up  in  that  grocery 
store  I'm  afraid  he'd  be  chorin'  now.  You  remem- 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER         47 

ber  Mrs.  Crowley?  She  jes'  loves  them  children, 
but  Mandy's  afeerd  she's  going  to  lose  her.  She's 
got  a  beau  —  a  feller  named  Dan  Sweeney,  and  his 
hair  is  so  red  you  could  light  a  match  by  techin'  it. 
He  works  for  your  brother  'Zeke.  He's  a  good 
enuf  feller,  but  he  and  Strout  don't  hitch  horses. 
You  see  he  was  in  the  same  regiment  with  the  Per- 
fesser  an'  he  knows  all  about  him,  same  as  you 
found  out,  and  Strout  don't  talk  big  afore  him. 
The  fact  is,  the  Perfesser  hain't  many  friends. 
There  was  Abner  Stiles.  They  two  used  to  be  as 
thick  as  molasses,  but  since  Strout  wouldn't  give 
him  the  job  in  the  grocery  that  he'd  promised  him, 
Abner's  gone  back  on  him." 

"Does  Uncle  Ike  board  with  Mandy  now?" 
Alice  knew  that  he  did,  but  wished  Mrs.  Hawkins' 
view  of  the  strange  doings  of  her  uncle. 

"  Yes,  he's  there  —  goin'  on  eighty-two  and  chip- 
per as  a  squirrel.  He's  got  religion  Mandy  says, 
and  so  many  kinds  that  she  don't  know  which  one 
he's  got  the  most  of." 

Ouincy  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Mrs.  Hawkins, 
we're  going  up  to  Ezekiel's  house.  We  shall  stay 
to  supper,  but  will  get  back  before  you  lock  up  — 
ten  o'clock,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  No  such  hours  in  a  hotel.    We're  allus  open  till 


48         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

twelve,  and  sometimes  all  night  —  when  it  pays. 
It's  a  hard  life,  but  you  know  what's  goin'  on  an' 
that's  considruble  for  a  woman  who's  tied  up  in 
the  house  as  I  am." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         49 

CHAPTER   V 
'ZEKE  PETTINGILL'S  FARM 

QUINCY  had  intended  to  drive  to  his  brother-in- 
law's  house,  but  Alice  preferred  to  walk  as  the  dis- 
tance was  so  short.  The  Hawkins  House  was  on 
Mason  Street.  A  short  walk  brought  them  to 
Mason  Square.  In  plain  view  were  the  Town  Hall 
and  the  Chessman  Free  Public  Library. 

"  I  always  thought  it  was  foolishness  to  name 
these  streets  after  me,"  said  Quincy,  as  they  stood 
on  the  corner  of  Sawyer  Street.  "  There's  Adams 
Street  back  of  the  Town  Hall  and  Quincy  Street 
on  the  other  side." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  Alice.  "  I  would 
rather  have  a  street  named  after  me  than  a  monu- 
ment erected  to  my  memory." 

At  Putnam  Square  they  turned  to  the  left  into 
Pettingill  Street  and  soon  reached  her  brother's 
house.  Huldah  saw  them  coming  and  ran  down 
the  path  to  meet  them. 

"  Why,  when  did  you  come,  and  where  are  your 
things?  You  are  surely  going  to  stay  with  us." 

"  Our  headquarters  are  at  the  Hawkins  House," 


50         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

said  Quincy.  "  We  have  been  in  town  but  a  few 
hours  and  you  have  the  first  visit." 

"  I  am  so  disappointed  you  aren't  to  be  with  us," 
and  Huldah's  face  showed  the  feeling  she  had  ex- 
pressed. 

"  You  won't  be  when  I  give  you  our  reasons," 
Quincy  replied.  "  Mrs.  Putnam  died  in  this  house, 
and  Alice  has  such  a  vivid  recollection  of  her  last 
day  on  earth  —  " 

"  I  understand,"  said  Huldah,  "  but  you  must 
come  and  see  us  every  day." 

"Where's  Ezekiel?"  asked  Alice. 

"  Getting  in  his  last  load  of  hay  —  about  sixty 
tons  this  year.  We  only  had  thirty  a  year  ago." 

"  Where's  my  namesake  —  Quincy  Adams  Pet- 
tingill?" 

"  He  goes  every  day  to  see  his  grandpa  and 
grandma.  Abner  will  be  here  with  him  soon." 

When  they  reached  the  piazza,  Quincy  took  a 
good  view  of  the  farm.  What  a  contrast  to  the 
condition  it  had  been  in,  when  occupied  by  the  Put- 
nams !  Then  everything  had  been  neglected  — 
now  garden,  field,  and  orchard  showed  a  high  state 
of  cultivation,  and  the  house  and  outbuildings  were 
in  good  repair  and  freshly  painted.  Inside,  the 
careful  attention  of  a  competent  housekeeper  was 
apparent.  Huldah  Pettingill  was  a  finer  looking 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS    SAWYER         51 

woman  than  Huldah  Mason  had  been,  but  Quincy 
had  never  forgotten  how  pretty  she  looked  the  day 
she  lay  in  bed  with  the  plaster  cast  on  her  broken 
arm  —  the  result  of  the  accident  for  which  he  had 
taken  the  blame  belonging  to  another. 

They  had  just  sat  down  in  the  little  parlour  when 
cries  of  "  Mamma  "  were  heard  outside  and  four 
year  old  Quincy  Adams  Pettingill  burst  into  the 
room  followed  closely  by  Abner  Stiles. 

"  He  don't  mind  me  no  more'n  a  woodchuck 
would,"  said  Abner  —  then  his  eyes  fell  on  Quincy, 
who  rose  to  greet  him. 

"  Why,  if  it  ain't "  —  but  words  failed  him  as 
Quincy  gave  his  hand  a  hearty  grasp. 

"  This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  shook  hands  with 
a  guv'nor,"  said  Abner.  "  I  didn't  know  you  was 
going  to  shake  hands  all  round  the  night  of  the 
show  an'  I  went  home."  He  looked  at  his  right 
hand,  rubbed  it  softly  with  his  left,  and  then  re- 
marked :  "  I  sha'n't  wash  that  hand  for  a  couple 
o'  days  if  I  can  help  it." 

His  hearers  laughed,  for  his  words  were  accen- 
tuated by  the  old-time  grin  that  had  pleased  Oba- 
diah  Strout  on  some  occasions,  but  on  others  had 
raised  his  ire  to  an  explosive  point. 

"  Are  father  and  mother  at  home?  "  asked  Hul- 
dah. 


52         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Yes,  both  on  'em.  Susie  Barker's  been  helpin' 
her  to-day,  and  the  Dekin's  wife  thinks  o'  keepin' 
her  reg'lar." 

"  I'll  have  them  come  to  supper,"  said  Huldah. 
"  Abner,  hitch  up  the  black  mare  into  the  low 
phaeton  and  bring"  them  up  here.  Don't  tell  them 
who's  here,  but  tell  them  that  I  say  they  must 
come." 

"  Well,  I  declare!  "  All  looked  up  and  saw  Eze- 
kiel  standing  in  the  doorway.  He  wore  overalls 
and  thick  boots,  his  sleeves  were  rolled  up,  showing 
his  brawny  arms  with  muscles  like  whip-cords.  His 
face  was  brown,  but  his  beard  was  neatly  trimmed, 
and  his  eyes  bright.  He  was  a  picture  of  robust, 
healthy  manhood,  and  showed  what  he  was,  —  a 
hard-working,  independent  New  England  farmer. 
Alice  sprang  into  his  arms  and  received  a  resound- 
ing smack.  One  hand  grasped  Quincy's  while  the 
other  encircled  his  dainty  wife's  waist,  and  he  drew 
her  towards  him. 

"  You  have  a  fine  farm,"  said  Ouincy. 

"  About  as  good  as  they  make  them,"  'Zeke  re- 
plied. "  I've  a  good  market  for  all  I  can  raise. 
Strout  and  Maxwell  buy  a  great  deal  of  gar- 
den truck,  and  I  sell  considerable  to  Mrs.  Haw- 
kins direct.  What  I  have  left  we  eat  or  give 
away." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         53 

Alice  had  taken  young  Quincy  on  her  lap.  He 
became  communicative.  "  I've  got  a  grandpa  and 
grandma  and  Uncle  Abner." 

"  Abner  isn't  your  uncle,"  said  Alice.  "  I'm 
your  Aunt  Alice,  and  that  is  your  Uncle  Quincy." 

Ezekiel  laughed.  "  You  can't  convince  him  but 
that  Abner 's  his  uncle.  Abner  comes  after  him 
every  afternoon  and  takes  him  down  to  the  Deacon's 
house  and  that  gives  Huldy  a  good  chance  to  do 
my  mending." 

The  sound  of  carriage  wheels  indicated  new  ar- 
rivals, and  Huldah  \vent  to  the  door  to  meet  her 
father  and  mother. 

"  Have  you  got  callers  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Mason. 
"  I  don't  think  I'll  go  in.  I  didn't  dress  up,  but 
came  just  as  I  was." 

"  And  I  never  saw  you  looking  better,"  said 
Quincy,  stepping  into  the  entry  to  meet  them. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  again,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  and 
the  Deacon's  grasp  was  a  firm  one.  "  I  didn't  get 
up  to  the  Town  Hall  that  night,  for  I  didn't  feel 
first-rate  and  Sophia  didn't  want  to  go  alone,  but 
Abner  told  me  what  you  did  and  said,  and  I  reckon 
added  a  little  on  his  own  account." 

Abner  appeared  in  the  doorway.  "  I've  put  up 
the  mare,  Mr.  Pettingill.  Want  me  for  anything 
more,  Dekin?" 


54         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  You  can  go  home  and  help  Susie,"  said  Mrs. 
Mason. 

When  Abner  had  gone,  the  Deacon  chuckled  and 
said,  "  Nothing  could  please  Abner  better  than  to 
take  supper  with  Susie  and  pass  the  evening  in  her 
company.  He's  more'n  forty  and  she's  only  twenty, 
but  such  hitch-ups  ain't  uncommon  nowadays." 

"  That  is  what  they  call  a  December  and  May 
marriage,"  remarked  Alice. 

"  Not  quite  as  bad  as  that,"  said  the  Deacon. 
"  I  should  say  about  October  and  March." 

It  was  a  jolly  company  that  sat  down  to  a  well- 
filled  table  that  evening.  Quincy's  first  coming  to 
town,  and  his  exciting  experiences  during  his  four 
months'  residence  at  Mason's  Corner,  formed  the 
principal  topics  of  conversation,  and  Alice  appre- 
ciated more  fully  than  ever  her  husband's  persist- 
ency, which  had  shown  itself  as  strongly  in  doing 
good  to  others  as  it  had  in  manifesting  love  for 
herself. 

When  they  reached  the  Hawkins  House  Mrs. 
Hawkins  was  on  the  watch  for  them. 

"  There's  a  young  man  here  to  see  you,  Mr. 
Sawyer.  He  came  on  the  train  to  Cottonton  and 
my  man  Andrew  brought  him  over.  I  told  him 
you  wouldn't  be  home  till  late  and  I  sent  him  off 
to  bed.  Was  that  all  right?  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         55 

"  I  can  tell  better/'  said  Quincy,  "  when  I  find 
out  who  he  is  and  what  he  wants." 

"  He  said  his  name  was  Gerry  or  Ferry  or  some- 
thing like  that.  He's  kind  of  bashful,  I  'mag- 
ine." 

"  It's  Merry,"  Quincy  exclaimed.  "  Something 
has  turned  up  at  the  State  House,  but  it  will  keep 
till  morning." 

As  they  were  ascending  the  stairs,  Mrs.  Hawkins 
called  out,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Sawyer,  there  was  a  letter 
came  for  you.  It's  up  in  your  room." 

It  was  from  Maude.  "  Let  us  see  what  that 
volatile  sister  of  mine  has  to  say.  Something  very 
important  or  she  wouldn't  write."  As  he  opened 
the  note  sheet,  he  turned  to  his  wife.  "  Shall  I  read 
it  aloud?" 

"  I  should  love  to  hear  it." 

Quincy  read : 

"  MY  ABSENT  RELATIVE  :  You  will  be  delighted 
to  hear  that  I  have  found  Captain  Hornaby's  miss- 
ing coat  and  wallet.  I  was  out  in  the  new  boat 
when  I  saw  something  on  the  bottom  of  the  pond. 
You  know  the  water  is  as  clear  as  glass.  It  wasn't 
very  deep  and  I  fished  the  coat  up  with  an  oar.  I 
gave  it  to  father  and  he  examined  the  wallet  with 
apparently  great  interest.  Perhaps  he  thought 


56         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

there  was  some  money  in  it,  but  there  wasn't. 
There  were  some  visiting  cards  bearing  the  name 
Col.  Arthur  Spencer,  but  nary  a  red.  Father  is  try- 
ing to  find  out  who  the  Colonel  is.  I  think  father 
loaned  the  Captain  some  money  —  don't  you  ?  Now 
that  we  have  a  real  live  boat,  no  more  slippery 
canoes  for  me.  I  hope  you  and  Alice  are  having 
a  fine  time  —  of  course  you  will  on  your  old  stamp- 
ing ground. 

"  I  don't  find  any  fault,  because  I'm  so  young 
and  of  so  little  importance,  but  it  seems  funny  that 
nobody  ever  invited  me  to  visit  Fernborough. 
Please  don't  consider  this  a  bid  for  an  invite,  for 
I  won't  come.  Your  neglected  sister, 

"  MAUDE." 

"Is  it  possible?"  cried  Alice,  "that  Maude  has 
never  been  here  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  lamentable  fact." 

"  She  won't  come  now." 

"  I'll  fetch  her,  —  hand-cuffed,  if  necessary." 

Quincy  was  up  early  to  learn  Merry's  errand. 
A  request  had  come  from  the  Governor  of  Colo- 
rado for  the  extradition  of  a  Pole  named  Ivan 
Wolaski,  who  was  accused  of  being  concerned  in 
a  dynamite  explosion  in  a  Colorado  mine. 

"  Have  you  looked  into  the  case,  Harry  ?  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER         57 

"  Somewhat.  I  think  it  is  part  of  a  political 
feud." 

Quincy  made  preparation  for  an  immediate  de- 
parture. 

"  Mrs.  Hawkins,  I  must  go  to  Boston  at  once 
with  Mr.  Merry.  Will  you  have  Andrew  get  a 
team  ready  for  me?  I  will  leave  it  at  the  Eagle 
Hotel.  I  know  the  way  home." 

"  You  ought  to,"  said  she.  "  You've  druv  it 
times  enough." 

"  What  will  you  do  with  yourself  all  day,  Alice? 
I  must  go  to  the  State  House  on  business,  but  I'll 
be  back  by  six  o'clock." 

"  If  I  were  home  I'd  have  my  horse  saddled  and 
have  a  ride  out  to  the  Arboretum  or  Chestnut 
Hill." 

"  They've  no  saddle  horses  here,  unfortunately. 
I'll  tell  you  what  to  do.  After  dinner  go  down  to 
Mandy  Maxwell's  and  see  her  and  the  children, 
and  have  a  talk  with  Uncle  Ike.  I'll  be  there  in 
time  for  supper,  tell  Mandy." 

When  Quincy  went  down  stairs  he  found  that 
Mrs.  Hawkins  had  gone  out  to  the  stable  to  give 
Andrew  directions  about  the  team. 

Quincy  said  in  a  low  tone :  "  Mrs.  Hawkins,  have 
you  some  spare  stalls  in  your  stable  that  I  can  use 
while  here?" 


58         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  You  can  have  the  old  barn  all  to  yourself.  It's 
a  leetle  further  from  the  house,  but  it's  in  first-rate 
order." 

As  they  drove  towards  Eastborough  Centre, 
Ouincy  pointed  out  the  objects  of  interest  to  Mr. 
Merry,  who  thought  Fernborough  a  beautiful 
town. 

"  Come  down  next  Saturday  afternoon,  Harry, 
and  stay  over  Sunday.  Bring  down  any  important 
letters.  Perhaps  my  sister  Maude  will  come  back 
with  me/' 

Mr.  Merry  accepted  the  invitation  with  polite 
outward  thanks,  but  with  an  inward  sense  of  intense 
gratification.  Love  is  blind.  If  he  had  reflected, 
he  would  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
daughter  of  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer, 
the  millionaire,  was  not  for  him,  an  unfledged  law- 
yer with  a  mother  to  support. 

When  they  reached  Eastborough  Centre,  Quincy 
found  he  was  too  late  for  the  train.  He  had  nearly 
an  hour  at  his  disposal.  His  first  visit  was  to  the 
Eagle  Hotel,  where  he  put  up  the  horse.  Mr.  Par- 
sons, the  proprietor,  was  greatly  pleased  to  meet 
him. 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  how  we  railroaded 
Strout  out  of  office,  have  you?  " 

"  That  was  long  ago,"  said  Quincy.     "  Strout 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         59 

and  I  are  good  friends  now.  He's  one  of  my  part- 
ners in  the  Fernborough  store." 

"  So  I've  been  told." 

Quincy  took  Mr.  Parsons  aside  and  had  an  ani- 
mated conversation  with  him. 

"  I  can  get  you  just  what  you  want,  Guv'nor. 
Kind  and  gentle  but  some  go  in  them  when  needed." 

"  Send  them  to  the  Hawkins  House  and  don't 
forget  the  saddles." 

They  crossed  the  square  to  the  telegraph  office, 
where  Quincy  sent  this  message. 

"  Miss  MAUDE  SAWYER, 

"  Wideview,  Red  ford,  Mass. 
"  Meet  me  at  State  House  by  two  o'clock.    Leave 
your  trunk  at  station.     Something  important. 

"  QUINCY." 

As  they  were  leaving  the  office  Quincy  met  To- 
bias Smith,  father  of  Abbott  and  Ellis  Smith,  and 
Wallace  Stackpole. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Guv'nor,"  said  'Bias.  "  You 
remember  Mr.  Stackpole  that  we  gave  Strout's  job 
of  tax-collector  to  —  he's  held  it  ever  since.  We're 
mighty  glad  Strout  lives  in  Fernborough.  We 
don't  have  circuses  at  town  meetings  now  he's 
gone." 


60         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

Quincy's  next  visit  was  to  the  office  of  the  Fern- 
borough  Gazette,  which  was  published  in  East- 
borough,  as  the  editor  and  proprietor,  Mr.  Syl- 
vester Chisholm,  Mr.  Strout's  brother-in-law,  could 
not  get  printers  in  Fernborough,  and,  being  an 
Eastborough-born  boy,  his  paper  had  a  large  cir- 
culation in  that  town  and  in  Westvale,  its  principal 
village. 

Quincy  obtained  some  copies  of  the  paper  con- 
taining his  speech  at  the  Town  Hall.  On  looking  it 
over  he  was  astonished  to  find  it  reported  verbatim. 

11  How  did  you  manage  it,  Mr.  Chisholm?  My 
address  was  extemporaneous." 

Sylvester  smiled.  "  Well,  the  fact  is,  Mr.  Saw- 
yer, while  I  was  working  on  the  Eastborough  Ex- 
press, when  you  were  here  five  years  ago,  I  studied 
short-hand,  and  it  came  in  handy  that  night." 

The  train  was  express  to  Boston  and  Quincy  was 
in  his  chair  in  the  Executive  Chamber  by  half-past 
eleven.  After  a  careful  examination  of  the  case 
of  Ivan  Wolaski,  he  decided  to  refuse  the  request 
for  extradition,  and  the  Governor  of  Colorado  was 
so  notified  in  a  communication  which  from  moral, 
legal,  political,  and  humanitarian  points  of  view  was 
unanswerable.  It  was  nearly  two  o'clock  when  the 
last  official  letter  was  signed. 

The  door  was  opened  by  the  messenger.    Quincy 


OF    QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER         61 

expected  Maude  to  enter,  but  it  was  Mr.  Acton, 
the  energetic  opponent  of  the  "  peaceful  picketing  " 
law. 

"  I  heard,  Mr.  Governor,  that  you  were  here,  and 
I  thought  it  only  fair  to  inform  you  that  we  shall 
apply  for  injunctions  just  the  same  as  if  that  bill 
you  signed  had  not  become  a  law,  and,  in  that  way, 
test  its  constitutionality." 

"  You  have  a  legal  right  to  do  that,"  said  the 
governor,  "  but  I  question  your  moral  right." 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Acton. 

"  Supposing  I  had  applied  for  an  injunction  to 
prevent  you  and  a  score  of  others  from  trying  to 
influence  me  to  veto  the  bill  ?  " 

"  That  would  have  been  foolish.  No  judge 
would  have  granted  it." 

"  And  why  not  ? "  said  the  governor  sternly. 
"  Were  not  all  of  you  engaged  in  '  peaceful  picket- 
ing '  ?  Why  should  not  the  working  man  have  the 
same  right  to  persuade  his  fellows  that  you  exerted 
to  influence  me?" 

Mr.  Acton  had  not  exhausted  his  argument: 
"  But  the  probable  destruction  of  property  and  pos- 
sible loss  of  life  ?" 

"  Matters  fully  covered  by  law,"  the  Governor 
replied.  "  They  are  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
police,  the  sheriff,  and,  if  need  be,  the  militia." 


62         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

Mr.  Acton,  despite  the  argument  advanced,  "  was 
of  the  same  opinion  still." 

Quincy  rang  for  the  messenger,  who  appeared. 

"  I  am  going  now.  Does  any  one  wish  to  see 
me?" 

"  There's  a  young  lady  outside.  She's  been 
waiting  some  time." 

Quincy  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  quarter  past 
two. 

"  Admit  her,  at  once." 

Maude  began  the  conversation.  "  I  received 
your  astonishing  telegram,  Quincy,  and  was  here 
on  time"  and  she  emphasized  the  final  words. 

"  What  does  it  mean?    Is  Alice  sick?  " 

Quincy  took  the  cue.  "  Not  exactly  sick,  but  she 
wants  to  see  you  very  much,  and  I  felt  so  sure  you 
would  come  to  please  her,  that  I  ignored  your  re- 
fusal to  accept  an  invitation  from  me.  Come,  we'll 
have  lunch  at  Young's,  and  then  a  carriage  to  the 
station,  —  is  your  trunk  there?  " 

Maude  nodded.  She  felt  that  Quincy  had  played 
.a  trick  on  her  and  she  was  in  a  rebellious  mood. 

She  ate  her  lunch  in  silence.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken  during  the  drive  to  the  station.  When  the 
train  was  under  way  Quincy  remarked,  casually, 
'"  I  invited  Mr.  Merry  to  come  down  next  Satur- 
day and  stay  over  Sunday." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         63 

From  that  moment  until  they  reached  East- 
borough  Centre,  Quincy  could  not  have  desired  a 
more  talkative  or  vivacious  companion.  As  they 
stepped  upon  the  platform,  Mr.  Parsons  came  up. 

"  They're  there,  safe  and  sound.  I  went  up  with 
them  myself,  so's  to  be  sure." 


64         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   VI 

"  JUST    LIKE    OLD    TIMES  " 

ALICE  had  a  delightful  day  at  Mandy  Maxwell's. 
The  twins,  Abraham  Mason  and  Obadiah  Strout, 
sturdy  little  fellows  of  the  same  age  as  Ezekiel's 
boy,  were  full  of  fun  and  frolic.  Swiss,  Uncle 
Ike's  dog,  had  grown  old  in  the  past  five  years, 
but  the  antics  of  the  youngsters  overcame  at  times 
both  age  and  its  accompanying  dignity,  or  love  of 
repose,  and  he  was  often  as  frisky  as  in  his  younger 
days. 

Mrs.  Crowley  told  Alice,  in  confidence,  that  she 
"  was  most  dead  "  with  the  noise  of  them,  and  that, 
some  day,  she  would  be  "  kilt  intirely  "  by  falling 
over  them, 

Alice  held  the  little  girl  for  hours,  and,  remem- 
bering Mrs.  Hawkins'  complaint,  called  her  "  Mar- 
tha "  instead  of  "  Mattie." 

After  the  death  of  Capt.  Obed  Putnam,  his  com- 
panion, Uncle  Ike  came  down  from  his  attic  and 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         65 

had  the  room  that  Quincy  occupied  when  he  boarded 
with  Ezekiel  Pettingill.  He  was  now  eighty-one 
years  of  age,  and  too  feeble  to  go  up  and  down 
stairs,  so  his  meals  were  taken  to  his  room. 

He  was  greatly  pleased  to  see  Alice  and  to  learn 
that  there  had  been  no  return  of  the  trouble  with 
her  eyes. 

"If  we  had  known  as  much  then  as  we  do  now, 
you  wouldn't  have  needed  any  doctor,  Alice." 

"  Why,  how's  that?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because  the  mind  governs  the  body;  as  we 
think  we  are  —  we  are." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Ike,  why  don't  you  think  you  are 
able  to  go  down  stairs  and  walk  back  again?  " 

"  I  was  referring  to  disease,  not  the  infirmities 
of  old  age." 

"  What's  the  difference,  Uncle?  " 

"  I  can't  explain  it,  but  there's  a  mighty  sight 
of  difference.  I've  been  trying  to  get  Mandy  to  let 
me  live  on  sour  milk,  because  a  great  doctor  in 
Europe  says  we'll  live  longer  if  we  do." 

"  How  long  would  you  care  to  live?  " 

"  As  long  as  I  could.  I've  been  reading  up  on 
all  the  religions  and  all  the  substitutes,  and  it's 
going  to  take  me  some  time  to  decide  which  is 
best  —  for  me,  I  mean.  I  don't  presume  to  dictate 
to  others." 


66         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Which  do  you  favour  so  far  ?  " 

"  I  was  brought  up  on  theology  —  great,  big 
doses  of  it.  I  was  taught  that  God  was  everything 
and  man  was  nothing.  Now  I'm  willing  to  give 
the  Almighty  credit  for  all  his  wonderful  works, 
but  I  can't  help  thinking  that  man  deserves  some 
credit  for  his  thousands  of  years  of  labour.  There's 
a  man  out  in  Chicago  who  has  got  up  a  religion 
that  he  calls  Manology.  There's  some  good  points 
in  it,  but  he  goes  too  far  to  suit  me.  I've  read 
about  ghosts  and  spirits,  but  I've  got  to  see  one 
before  I  take  stock  in  them." 

"  I  understand  how  you  feel,  Uncle.  You  have 
lost  the  two  anchors  which  make  this  life  bearable. 
They  are  Faith  and  Hope.  For  them  you  have 
substituted  Reason  —  not  the  reason  of  others,  or 
of  the  ages,  but  your  own  personal  opinion.  Until 
you  are  satisfied,  every  one  else  is  wrong." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,  Alice.  I  can  see  now  that 
my  life  has  been  misspent.  I  should  have  remained 
at  home  and  made  my  wife  and  children  happy. 
Instead,  I  became,  virtually,  a  hermit,  and  for  more 
than  twenty  years  I  have  thought  only  of  myself 
and  done  nothing  for  humanity,  that  has  done 
everything  for  me." 

Alice  was  deeply  touched  by  her  Uncle's  self- 
accusation.  He  had  been  good  to  her,  and  not 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         67 

unkind  to  others.  But  he  was  drifting  in  a  sea  of 
doubt,  and  really  wishing  to  live  his  life  over  again. 
She  felt  sorry,  but  what  could  she  say  to  give  his 
mind  peace?  She  would  begin  on  the  material 
plane. 

"  Uncle,  how  much  money  have  you?  " 

"  That's  what  troubles  me,  Alice.  When  I  left 
home  "  —  his  voice  lingered  on  the  word  —  "I 
gave  my  wife  and  children  two-thirds  of  what  I 
had.  The  rest  I  put  into  an  annuity,  which  dies 
with  me.  That  will  do  nothing  for  those  I  love  and 
who  love  me." 

To  Alice,  the  case  seemed  almost  hopeless.  Here 
was  a  man  who,  owning  his  past  life  had  been  self- 
reliant,  independent,  impatient  as  regarded  advice 
and  control  —  was  now  weaker  than  a  child,  for, 
in  youth,  Faith  is  triumphant. 

"  You  must  have  a  talk  with  Quincy,  Uncle. 
Perhaps  he  can  help  you."  She  went  down  stairs 
with  a  sinking  heart.  She  loved  her  uncle,  but 
love,  powerful  as  it  is,  cannot  always  cast  out  un- 
belief. 

"  Where  can  your  husband  be,  Alice  ? "  asked 
Mandy.  "  Half-past  six,  and  supper's  ready.  I 
remember  how  I  used  to  call  out  *  supper's  ready ' 
when  you  and  he  were  in  the  parlour  singing.  I 
hope  you'll  sing  some  to-night." 


68         THE    FURTHER    ADVENTURES 

Mrs.  Crowley  rushed  into  the  dining  room. 
"  He's  coming,  but  he's  got  a  woman  with  him." 

"Who  can  she  be?"  thought  Alice  as  they  fol- 
lowed Mrs.  Crowley  to  the  front  door. 

"  Hello,  Alice,"  cried  Maude.  "  I've  brought 
him  back  with  me." 

Quincy  told  Ambrose,  Mandy's  boy-of-all-work, 
to  drive  the  team  to  the  Hawkins'  House  and  tell 
Mrs.  Hawkins  that  he  wished  a  room  that  night 
for  his  sister.  Ambrose's  hand  clutched  the  half- 
dollar  tightly  as  he  repeated  the  message  to  Quincy's 
satisfaction.  Mrs.  Crowley  gazed  admiringly  at 
the  Governor  until  he  disappeared  from  view. 
Alone,  in  the  kitchen,  she  gave  vent  to  her  feelings. 

"  The  foine  gintleman  that  he  is.  '  How  do  you 
do,  Mrs.  Crowley/  sez  he,  and  he  shakes  me  hand 
as  jintly  as  if  I  was  a  born  lady.  And  the  pretty 
sister  that  he  has,  an'  the  beautiful  wife.  An'  he's 
the  President  of  the  State,  an'  sez  he,  '  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley,  how  do  you  do,  an'  it's  delighted  I  am  to  see 
you  again.'  " 

Mrs.  Crowley  wiped  her  eyes  with  her  apron  and 
resumed  her  household  duties,  occasionally  repeat- 
ing, "  '  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Crowley.'  When 
Dan  comes  to-night  I'll  tell  him  what  the  Governor 
said." 

Hiram  soon  joined  the  party,  it  being  his  night 


OF    QUINCY   AD\MS    SA\VYER          69 

off.  As  of  old,  he  stammered,  or  stuttered,  when 
excited,  and  the  sight  of  Quincy  and  Alice  was 
enough  to  entirely  disorganize  his  speaking  appa- 
ratus. 

"Ain't  this  jolly?"  said  he.  "  Just  like  old 
times.  I  heerd  you  was  at  Miss  Hawkinses,  but 
I  didn't  think  as  how  you'd  git  round  here  so  quick. 
But  we're  mighty  glad  to  see  'em,  ain't  we,  Mandy? 
I  hope  you're  all  as  hungry  as  I  am."  He  went 
to  the  kitchen  door  and  called,  "  Mrs.  Crowley, 
we're  waiting  for  the  supper." 

"  How  I  wish  Uncle  Ike  could  be  with  us,"  said 
Alice. 

"  Why  can't  you  call  him?  "  asked  Quincy. 

"  He's  too  weak  in  his  legs  to  come  down,"  said 
Mandy. 

"  I'll  fetch  him,"  and  Quincy  bounded  up  stairs, 
while  Mandy  got  a  place  ready  for  him. 

Quincy  soon  returned  with  Uncle  Ike  in  his  arms 
and  placed  him  in  a  big  arm-chair  at  the  head  of 
the  table. 

Alice  looked  up  and  smiled  at  her  husband. 

"  Now  it  is  much  more  like  old  times,"  she  said, 
softly. 

Maude,  who  had  been  an  interested  listener  and 
spectator,  finally  exclaimed,  "  I'm  not  surprised  that 
you  stayed  down  here  four  months,  Quincy,  but 


70        THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

we  used  to  wonder,  until  we  saw  Alice,  what  the 
great  attraction  was." 

Maude's  explosive  remark  caused  a  general  laugh 
in  which  Uncle  Ike  joined.  Alice,  feeling  that  all 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  her,  blushed  prettily,  "  As 
my  husband's  residence  here  brought  good  to 
others  as  well  as  to  myself,  I  am  glad  that  a  poor, 
blind  girl,  such  as  I  was,  proved  an  attraction 
strong  enough  to  keep  him  here." 

She  stopped,  somewhat  abashed  at  making  so 
long  a  speech,  which  Maude  might  think  indicated 
that  she  was  offended  at  her  sister-in-law's  ref- 
erence to  herself. 

"  Bravo,  Alice,"  cried  Uncle  Ike,  "  so  say  we 
all  of  us." 

After  supper  all  adjourned  to  the  parlour. 
Quincy  offered  to  carry  Uncle  Ike. 

"  No,  young  man.  I'm  all  right  on  an  even 
floor.  It's  these  up  and  down  stairs  that  tire  my 
loose  joints  "  —  and  he  made  his  way,  without  as- 
sistance, to  an  easy  chair  in  a  farther  corner. 
Quincy  looked  about  the  room.  Five  years  had 
made  little  change.  The  old  square  piano  was 
in  its  accustomed  place,  as  well  as  the  music 
stand.  He  looked  over  the  pieces  —  the  same 
ones  that  he  and  Alice  had  sung1  together  years 
ago. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         71 

"  Let's  have  some  music,"  said  Hiram.  "  We 
haven't  heard  any  singers,  except  Dan,  since  you 
folks  went  away.  Guess  that  planner's  out  of  tune 
by  this  time." 

It  certainly  was,  but  their  hearts  were  in  tune, 
and  it  mattered  little  if  some  of  the  keys  refused 
to  move,  or  the  sounds  emitted  were  more  discord- 
ant than  melodious. 

"Is  this  Dan  a  good  singer?"  asked  Quincy. 

"Fine!"  exclaimed  Hiram.  "He's  great  on 
Irish  songs." 

"  They  are  always  humourous  or  pathetic,"  re- 
marked Alice.  "  Some  of  them  remind  me  of  a 
person  trying  to  laugh  with  a  heart  full  of  sorrow, 
and  their  love  songs  are  so  sweet." 

"  Can't  we  have  him  in?  "  asked  Maude. 

"  I'll  go  and  see  if  he's  come,"  said  Mandy.  "  He 
often  drops  in  and  helps  Mrs.  Crowley  clear  up 
after  supper." 

Maude  laughed.  "  A  sure  sign  he's  in  love.  I 
hope  I'll  get  such  a  helpful  husband." 

"  Your  life  will  be  on  different  lines,"  remarked 
Uncle  Ike.  "  You  will  not  be  obliged  to  do  your 
own  housework." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  I've  loafed  all  my 
life  and  I'd  really  like  to  know  what  work  is." 

Mandy  came  back   with   smiling   face.      "  Yes, 


72         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

he's  there,  and  they're  putting  the  dishes  in  the 
closet.  He's  coming  in,  and,  of  course,  Mrs.  Crow- 
ley  will  come  too." 

"  While  we  are  waiting,  play  something,  Maude," 
said  Quincy. 

"  I  only  took  three  quarters,"  she  said  roguishly, 
as  she  seated  herself  and  dashed  off  "  Waves  of 
Ocean  "  in  strident  style. 

"  I  always  liked  that,"  said  Hiram. 

"  So  do  I,  with  my  bathing-dress  on,"  and  Maude 
acknowledged  the  applause  that  greeted  her  efforts 
with  a  low  bow. 

The  door  was  opened,  and  Mrs.  Crowley  entered 
followed  by  Mr.  Daniel  Sweeney.  Mrs.  Crowley 
with  her  neat  calico  dress  and  white  apron,  did 
not  look  her  forty-five  years,  and  Mr.  Sweeney, 
although  five  years  her  senior,  was  a  young  appear- 
ing man. 

"  I  haven't  the  music  with  me,"  said  Mr.  Sweeney 
to  Maude,  who  offered  to  play  the  accompani- 
ment. 

"  Give  me  the  key  —  I  guess  I  can  vamp  it." 

Mr.  Sweeney  struck  a  note. 

"  What's  the  title?  "  asked  Maude. 

"  Widow  Mahan's  Pig." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,"  said  Maude.     "  It's  one  of 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         73 

my  favourites.  I  often  sing  it  to  my  sister  Flor- 
ence. She  just  adores  it." 

"  Why,  Maude,"  cried  Alice,  "  how  can  you  tell 
such  stories?"  But  Quincy  was  laughing"  quietly. 
But  few  people  understood  Maude  as  he  did. 

Mr.  Sweeney  had  a  fine  baritone  voice;  he  sang 
with  great  expression,  and,  what  is  particularly 
desirable  in  a  comic  song,  the  words  could  be  heard 
and  understood. 


Young  Widow  Mahan  had  an  iligant  pig, 
In  the  garden  it  loved  for  to  wallow  and  dig ; 
On  potatoes  it  lived,  and  on  fresh  buttermilk, 
And  its  back  was  as  smooth  as  fine  satin  or  silk. 
Now  Peter  McCarthy,  a  graceless  young  scamp, 
Who  niver  would  work,  such  a  lazy  young  tramp, 
He  laid  eye  on  the  pig,  as  he  passed  by  one  day, 
And  the  thafe  of  the  world,  he  stole  it  away  ! 


Chorus 

An  iligant  pig  in  every  way, 
Young  Widow  Mahan  used  often  to  say  : 
"  Faith,  when  it's  full  grown,  I'll  go  to  the  fair, 
A  mighty  foine  price  I'll  get  for  it  there." 


As  Mr.  Sweeney  started  to  repeat  the  four  lines 
of  the  chorus,  a  soprano  voice  rose  above  his  own, 


74         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

and,  as  the  last  note  died  away,  Maude  came  in  for 
her  share  of  the  applause.  Mrs.  Crowley  was  de- 
lighted, and  showed  her  appreciation  by  laughing 
until  she  cried. 

II 

He  drove  the  poor  piggy  to  Ballyporeen, 

And  the  price  of  it  soon  he  did  spend  in  poteen, 

He  got  into  a  fight  and  was  cracked  on  the  head, 

Then  to  jail  he  was  carried  and  taken  for  dead. 

The  constable  then  for  the  Father  did  send, 

For  he  thought  that  McCarthy  was  quite  near  his  end  ; 

He  confessed  to  the  priest,  did  this  penitent  youth, 

About  the  pig  stealing  he  told  the  whole  truth. 

Maude  improvised  a  short  symphony  before  the 
third  and  last  stanza. 

Ill 

Then  to  young  McCarthy,  the  Father  did  say : 
"  Now  what  will  you  do  at  the  great  Judgment  Day? 
For  you  will  be  there,  at  the  bar  you  will  stan' 
The  pig  as  a  witness,  and  Widow  Mahan." 
11  Faith,  what  will  I  do?  "  young  McCarthy  did  say. 
"  An'  the  pig  will  be  there  at  the  great  Judgment  Day  ? 
Begorre  !     I'll  say  to  the  Widow,  «  Asthore, 
Take  back  your  old  pig,  for  I  want  it  no  more.' 

" «  An  iligant  pig  in  ivery  way, 

Schwate  Widow  Mahan,  plaze  take  it  away. 
Faith,  now  it's  full  grown,  just  go  to  the  fair, 
A  mighty  foine  price  you'll  git  for  it  there.'  " 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER          75 

"Yes,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "that's  what  the  rich 
man  will  say.  After  cheating  the  poor,  buncoing 
the  credulous,  and  (  cornering '  his  fellows,  he  will 
say  he  is  willing  to  give  it  back,  for  he  has  no 
further  use  for  it.  There's  a  good  moral  in  that 
song,  Mr.  Sweeney,  and  some  of  our  sordid  mil- 
lionaires ought  to  hear  it." 

Quincy  looked  at  his  watch.  "  The  hour  is  late 
—  for  the  country,  but,  fortunately,  our  hotel  keeps 
open  all  night." 

Quincy  carried  Uncle  Ike  up  stairs  to  his  room 
and  told  him  he  would  come  some  day  and  have 
a  good  old-fashioned  talk  with  him. 

They  walked  home  slowly,  Maude  admiring  the 
moonlight  night  and  the  cool,  scented  air.  When 
they  reached  their  own  room,  after  seeing  Maude 
to  hers,  Alice  repeated  to  her  husband  her  conver- 
sation with  Uncle  Ike. 

"  You  must  do  something  to  cheer  him  up, 
Quincy.  Promise  me,  won't  you?  " 

"  Yes,  I  promise.  I  hope  I  won't  forget  to  per- 
form it  as  I  have  in  one  instance." 

"Why  — what?" 

"  Do  you  remember  that  young  man  at  the  Town 
Hall  —  Arthur  Scates?  He's  in  consumption.  I 
told  him  to  come  to  the  State  House  and  I  would 
see  that  he  had  proper  treatment.  He  hasn't  been 


76         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

—  or  perhaps  he  has  since  Fve  been  away,  but  I 
will  see  him  tomorrow." 

Alice  looked  up  at  him  approvingly.  "  Quincy, 
I  agree  with  you  that  the  real  value  of  money  is 
found  in  the  good  that  can  be  done  with  it." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         77 


CHAPTER   VIT 

STROUT   AND    MAXWELL'S    GROCERY 

THE  next  morning",  after  breakfast,  Quincy 
asked  his  wife  and  Maude  to  accompany  him  to 
Mrs.  Hawkins'  barn. 

"  I  wish  I  had  my  saddle  horse  here,"  said  Alice. 

"So  do  I,"  added  Maude.  "I  did  think  of 
bringing  him." 

Alice  laughed,  "  Do  you  know,  Maude,  some- 
times you  say  the  most  ridiculous  things?  How 
could  you  bring  a  horse  with  you  ?  " 

"  Easy  enough  —  on  a  cattle  car.  Besides,  I 
could  have  ridden  down  here  if  Quincy  hadn't  been 
in  such  a  hurry." 

"Alone?" 

"  No,  with  Bobby.  What  better  protector  can  a 
woman  have  than  a  good  horse?  I  shall  never  re- 
main in  danger  long  if  my  heels  or  my  horse's  will 
get  me  away  from  it." 


78         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  Maude,  you're  a  strange  girl,"  said  Alice. 
Then  she  put  her  arm  about  her  and  added  —  "  but 
one  of  the  best  girls  in  the  world." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  barn.  Two 
stalls  were  occupied.  Quincy  pointed  to  two  side- 
saddles hanging  on  the  wall. 

"  As  I  knew  you  were  both  good  horse-women, 
I  had  these  sent  up  with  your  riding  habits  from 
Eastborough  Centre  yesterday.  I  am  going  to  be 
busy  at  the  store  this  morning,  and  I  thought  you 
might  enjoy  a  ride." 

Maude  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
him. 

"  You  are  the  bestest  brother  in  the  world." 

"  And  the  most  thoughtful  husband,"  said  Alice 
as  he  drew  her  close  to  him. 

"  Well,  I'll  saddle  them  and  see  you  mounted." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Quincy  led  the  horses 
to  the  street. 

"  Don't  go  down  Obed's  Hill  —  it  is  very  steep. 
Ride  along  Pettingill  Street  to  the  Centre  Road, 
which  will  bring  you  to  Mason  Street,  and  when 
you've  walked  your  horses  up  hill  you'll  be  near 
the  grocery  store,  where  you'll  find  me." 

They  waved  a  good-bye  as  they  rode  off,  and 
Quincy  made  his  way  to  the  grocery  store.  Mr. 
Strout  came  from  behind  the  counter  to  meet  him. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER          79 

Hiram  was  busy  putting  order  baskets  in  the  gaud- 
ily painted  wagon. 

"  I  heard  as  how  you  were  in  town,  and  Hiram 
said  you  were  at  his  house  last  night,  but  I  ain't 
one  of  the  kind  that  gits  mad  if  I'm  waited  on  last 
at  table.  In  music  you  know  we  usually  begin  down 
low  and  finish  off  up  high,  and  visitin'  is  consid- 
erable like  music,  especially  when  there's  three  chil- 
dren and  one  of  'em  a  baby." 

His  closing  words  were  intended  to  refer  to 
Hiram's  family,  but  Quincy  made  no  reply. 

Mr.  Strout  was  never  at  a  loss  for  words : 
"  How  do  you  like  being  Governor  ?  " 

"  So  well  that  one  term  is  enough.  I'm  going 
to  Europe  later." 

"  I  mean  to  go  some  day.  I've  heard  so  many 
foreigners  blow  about  what  they've  got  over  there, 
I'm  kinder  anxious  to  see  for  myself.  If  they've 
got  a  better  grocery  store  than  this,  I'll  introduce 
improvements  as  soon  as  I  get  back." 

Hiram  having  finished  his  work  and  dispatched 
the  team,  the  three  partners  went  into  the  private 
office,  which  was  monopolized  by  Mr.  Strout.  It 
contained  one  desk  and  two  chairs.  Hiram  brought 
in  an  empty  nail  keg  and  closed  the  door. 

"  We've  done  twenty  per  cent,  more  business 
this  month  than  same  time  last  year."  Mr.  Strout 


80          THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

opened  a  desk  drawer.  "  Will  you  smoke,  Guv'- 
nor?" 

Quincy  accepted  the  cigar,  and  S trout,  without 
offering  one  to  Hiram,  was  returning  the  box  to 
the  drawer  when  Hiram,  by  a  quick  movement, 
gained  possession  of  it,  and  taking  out  half-a-dozen 
put  them  in  his  pocket. 

"  That'll  even  matters  up  a  little,  I  guess,"  he 
said.  Mr.  Strout  scowled,  but  catching  Quincy's 
eye,  said  nothing. 

"  Would  you  like  to  look  over  the  books  ?  I'll 
have  them  brought  in." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  to  do  that,"  said  Quincy. 
"  I'll  examine  them  at  the  bookkeeper's  desk." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Strout.  "  You'll  find  them 
O.  K.  But  now's  you're  here  there's  one  thing  I 
want  to  say.  Hiram  don't  agree  with  me,  but  he 
ain't  progressive.  There's  no  crescendo  to  him. 
He  wants  to  play  in  one  key  all  the  time.  He's  —  " 

Quincy  interrupted,  "  What  did  you  wish  to  say 
about  the  business?  We'll  drop  personalities  for 
the  present,  at  least." 

"  Well,  our  business  is  growing,  but  we  can  do 
ten  times  as  much  with  more  capital.  What  I  want 
to  do  is  to  start  branch  stores  in  Cottonton,  Mont- 
rose,  and  Eastborough  Centre.  We  send  our  teams 
to  all  these  places,  but  if  we  had  stores  there  we'd 


OP   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         81 

soon  cut  the  other  fellers  out,  for  buying  in  such 
large  quantities,  we  could  undersell  them  every 
time." 

"  I'm  rather  in  favour  of  the  branches,  but  don't 
go  to  cutting  prices.  The  other  fellow  has  the  same 
right  to  a  living  that  we  have/' 

"  Why  not  let  him  have  what  he's  got  then  and 
not  interfere  with  him?  "  said  Mr.  Strout,  chewing 
his  cigar  vigorously. 

"  For  the  reason,"  said  Quincy,  "  that  we  don't 
keep  store  to  please  our  competitors,  but  to  serve 
the  public.  I  believe  in  low  prices  in  sugar,  tea, 
and  coffee,  to  draw  trade.  But  general  cuts  in 
prices  are  ruinous  in  the  end,  for  our  competitors 
will  cut  too,  and  we  shall  all  lose  money." 

"  I  ain't  agin  the  new  stores,"  said  Hiram,  "  but 
I'm  teetotally  agin  chopping  prices  down  on  every- 
thing and  tryin'  to  beat  the  other  feller." 

"How  much  money  will  it  require?"  asked 
Quincy.  "  Have  you  estimated  on  rent,  fixtures, 
stock,  horses  and  wagons,  stabling,  wages  and  sal- 
aries, and  sundry  expenses?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  got  it  all  down  in  black  and  white, 
it's  in  the  safe.  My  estimate,  and  it  is  as  close  as 
the  bark  to  a  tree,  is  six  thousand  dollars  spot 
cash." 

"  I'll  look  over  your  figures,"  said  Quincy,  "  and 


82         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

if  they  seem  all  right,  I'll  advance  the  money  on 
the  usual  terms,  eight  per  cent.,  but  I  must  have 
a  four  thousand  dollar  mortgage  to  cover  your 
two-thirds,  for  I  don't  suppose  you  can  put  up  two 
thousand  apiece/' 

"  Not  this  year,"  said  Strout,  as  he  proceeded  to 
relight  his  cigar. 

The  door  was  thrown  open  violently  and  Alice 
rushed  in. 

"  Oh,  Quincy,  Maude's  horse  has  run  away  with 
her  and  I'm  afraid  she's  thrown  and  perhaps  killed. 
I  tried  to  catch  up  with  her  but  I  could  not,  and 
I  saw  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  come  and  let  you 
know." 

"  Which  way  has  she  gone  ? "  cried  Quincy. 
"  How  did  it  happen?  " 

"  We  stopped  at  'Zekiel's  and  had  a  talk  with 
Huldah,  who  came  down  to  the  gate.  Then  we 
went  on  until  we  came  to  the  Centre  Road.  When 
Maude  saw  the  long  straight  stretch  ahead  she 
cried,  '  Let's  have  a  race ! '  Before  I  could  remon- 
strate, she  gave  her  horse  a  sharp  cut  with  the 
whip.  He  took  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and  bolted.  I 
rode  on  as  fast  as  I  dared  to,  but  when  I  reached 
Mason  Street  she  was  not  in  sight." 

"  If  she  had  come  this  way  we  should  have  seen 
or  heard  her,"  said  Quincy.  "  She  must  have  gone 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         83 

towards  Eastborough  Centre.  Come,  Alice,  I  will 
get  the  carryall.  If  she  is  hurt  she  will  not  be  able 
to  ride  her  horse." 

Leading  her  horse,  Quincy  and  Alice  went  to  the 
Hawkins  House. 

"  He  takes  it  pretty  cool,"  said  Strout  to  Hiram. 
"  If  she  was  my  sister  I'd  ring  the  church  bell, 
make  up  a  party,  and  go  in  search  of  her  dead 
body,  for  that's  what  they'll  come  back  with." 

"  I  don't  take  no  stock  in  that,"  remarked  Hiram. 
"  She's  used  to  horses,  and  she's  a  mighty  bright, 
independent  girl.  She'll  come  home  all  right." 

"  No  doubt  she's  independent  enough,"  retorted 
Strout.  "  That  runs  in  the  family.  But  the  horse, 
it  seems,  was  independent  too.  Perhaps  the  Guv'- 
nor  will  have  a  boxing  match  with  him  for  his 
independence  to  a  Sawyer." 

As  Hiram  went  back  into  the  store  he  said  to 
himself :  "  That  Strout's  only  a  half-converted  sin- 
ner anyway.  He'll  never  forget  the  thrashing  that 
Mr.  Sawyer  gave  his  man,  Bob  Wood." 

Quincy  had  Alice  go  to  her  room,  for  she  was 
agitated  and  extremely  nervous,  and  he  asked  Mrs. 
Hawkins  to  look  out  for  her  until  his  return. 

With  Andrew's  help,  the  carryall  was  soon  ready 
and  Quincy  drove  to  the  store.  What  was  his  sur- 
prise to  find  Maude  there,  still  on  her  horse,  and 


84         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

apparently  uninjured.  With  her,  also  on  horse- 
back was  an  attractive  girl,  a  stranger  to  Quincy. 

"  I'm  all  right,  Quincy,"  Maude  cried  as  he 
alighted,  "  but  there  would  have  been  a  funeral 
but  for  this  young  lady/' 

Quincy,  with  hat  in  hand,  bowed  to  the  stranger. 
"  I  am  deeply  grateful  for  your  valuable  service, 
madam.  To  whom  are  we  indebted  for  my  sister's 
rescue  from  death  ?  " 

The  young  lady  smiled,  showing  a  set  of  even, 
white  teeth.  "  Not  so  great  a  service  after  all. 
Your  sister  is  a  good  horsewoman.  If  she  hadn't 
been,  she  would  have  been  thrown  long  before  I 
reached  her." 

"  But  your  name,  Madam,"  persisted  Quincy. 
"  Her  father  will  wish  to  know,  and  to  thank  you." 

"  My  name  when  in  Fernborough  is  Mrs.  Em- 
manuel Howe.  When  I'm  on  the  stage,  it  is  Dixie 
Schaffer.  I  was  born  in  the  South.  My  father 
was  Col.  Hugh  Schaffer  of  Pasquotank  County, 
North  Carolina." 

"  My  father  and  all  of  us  will  feel  under  great 
obligations  to  you." 

"  I  hope  he  will  not.  I  have  no  objections  to 
receiving  his  thanks  in  writing,  if  he  is  disposed 
to  send  them,  which  I  think  unnecessary  as  you  are 
his  representative.  But  kindly  caution  him  not  to 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER          85 

suggest  or  send  any  reward,  for  it  will  be  returned." 
She  bowed  to  Quincy,  turned  her  horse's  head  and 
rode  away. 

As  Strout  entered  the  store  he  said  to  himself, 
"  Bully  for  her.  She  don't  bow  down  to  money. 
She's  got  brains." 

A  few  days  later,  however,  Miss  Dixie  Schaffer 
was  the  recipient  from  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams 
Sawyer  of  a  beautiful  gold  pendant  in  the  shape 
of  a  horseshoe,  set  with  pearls.  If  one  could  have 
glanced  at  a  stub  in  the  lawyer's  check  book,  he 
would  have  found  the  name  of  a  prominent  jeweller, 
and  the  figures  $300.  It  is  needless  to  add  that 
the  gift  was  not  returned  to  the  donor. 

When  Alice  saw  that  Maude  had  escaped  with- 
out injury,  she  soon  recovered  her  equanimity. 

"How  did  it  happen,  Maude?"  asked  Quincy. 
"  Alice  says  you  gave  the  horse  a  sharp  blow." 

"  I  must  have  hit  her  harder  than  I  intended  — 
but  I  was  thinking  of  the  race  more  than  of  her. 
Didn't  she  run,  hurrah-ti-cut,  as  Mrs.  Hawkins 
says  ?  I  was  bound  I'd  keep  on  her  back  unless  she 
fell  down  or  ran  into  something,  and  I  did.  I 
wasn't  foolish  enough  to  jump  and  land  on  my 
head. 

"  When  we  got  to  the  main  road,  I  didn't  know 
which  way  to  turn  —  I  mean  I  couldn't  think.  She 


86         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

settled  the  matter  by  turning  to  the  right,  which 
was  very  fortunate,  but  I  didn't  know  I  was  on  the 
road  to  Dixie." 

"  Maude,  you're  incorrigible,"  laughed  Alice. 

"  No,  I'm  a  sensation.  I  was  full  of  them  as 
I  dashed  on.  But  she  was  a  well-bred  horse  and 
kept  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Then,  to  my  joy, 
I  saw  Dixie  ahead.  As  I  went  by  her  I  yelled  — 
yes,  yelled  —  '  she's  running  away.' 

"Dixie  yelled  — yes,  yelled  — *  Hold  on,  I'll 
catch  you.'  She  did,  but  we  ran  more  than  a  mile 
before  she  got  even  with  me,  grasped  my  horse's 
bridle,  and  pulled  her  round  so  quickly  that  I  came 
near  landing  in  the  bushes.  And  here  I  am." 

"  You  must  not  ride  her  again,"  said  Alice. 

"  That's  just  what  I  am  going  to  do.  I'm  not 
going  to  deprive  that  horse  of  my  company,  when 
it  was  all  my  fault.  No  more  whip,  she  needs  only 
the  voice  —  and  little  of  that." 

"  Alice,"  said  Quincy,  "  Mr.  Strout  has  invited 
us  to  dinner.  He  will  be  offended  unless  his  invi- 
tation is  accepted." 

"  I  don't  feel  equal  to  meeting  that  man  in  his 
own  house.  I  cannot  bear  him  even  at  long  range. 
Take  Maude." 

"  I'll  go,  Quincy.    I  love  these  odd  characters." 

"  He's  married  and  has  a  little  boy,"  said  Alice. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         87 

"  Then  my  love  for  the  father  will  be  invisible 
—  I'll  shower  my  affection  upon  his  offspring." 

Quincy,  after  introducing  his  sister  to  Mr.  Strout 
and  his  wife,  expressed  his  regret  that  his  wife  was 
so  unnerved  by  the  runaway  that  she  was  unable  to 
accompany  him.  Mr.  Strout,  in  turn,  expressed  his 
regrets,  as  did  Mrs.  Strout,  then  he  added :  "  Miss 
Sawyer,  we'll  have  to  pay  you  a  commission.  The 
store  has  been  full  of  folks  asking  about  you,  and 
after  I  told  them  all  about  the  runaway  and  how 
you  were  rescued,  they  had  to  talk  it  over,  and  I 
sold  more  than  forty  cigars  and  ten  plugs  of  to- 
bacco." 

"  How  did  you  know  how  I  was  rescued?  "  asked 
Maude. 

"  Well,  I  heard  part  and  imagined  the  rest.  I 
had  to  tell  'em  something  or  lose  the  trade." 

Mrs.  Strout  was  a  very  good  cook  and  the  din- 
ner was  a  success. 

Strout  leaned  far  back  in  his  chair  and  Maude 
assumed  a  similar  position.  Quincy  looked  at  her 
reprovingly,  but  she  did  not  change  her  attitude. 
To  her  brother's  astonishment,  she  addressed  Mr. 
Strout. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  travelled  a  great  deal,  Mr. 
Strout." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  have.     Since  I  got  back  from  the 


88         THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

war  I've  taught  music,  and  as  my  pupils  were  too 
lazy  to  come  to  me,  I  went  to  them.  But  speak- 
ing of  travelling,  I  was  in  a  runaway  once.  It  had 
been  snowing  for  about  four  days  without  a  break 
and  the  roads  were  blocked  up.  I  had  to  go  to 
Eastbo rough  Centre  and  I  hired  a  horse  I'd  never 
driven  before." 

"Didn't  you  have  to  put  snow-shoes  on  him?" 
asked  Maude. 

"Oh,  no,  because  I  waited  until  the  roads  were 
broken  out." 

"  That's  one  on  me,"  acknowledged  Maude. 

"  Well,  I  nearly  tipped  over  a  dozen  times,  but 
I  got  to  the  Centre  where  the  roads  had  been 
cleared.  But  my  sleigh  went  into  a  gully  and  came 
down  on  the  horse's  heels.  My,  wasn't  she  off  in 
a  jiffy!  I  held  her  in  the  road,  the  men,  and 
women,  and  children,  and  dogs  and  hens  getting 
out  of  the  way  as  fast  as  they  could.  She  was 
a  going  lickety-split,  and  although  I  wasn't  fright- 
ened, I  decided  she'd  got  to  stop. 

"  I  saw  a  house  with  an  ell,  and  in  the  corner 
the  snow  was  packed  up  ten  feet  high.  I  had  an 
idea.  I  put  all  my  strength  on  to  one  rein,  turned 
her  head,  and  she  went  into  that  snow  bank  out 
of  sight,  all  but  her  tail.  I  got  out  of  the  sleigh, 


H  OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER         89 

sat  down  on  the  snow,  and  laughed  till  I  thought 
I'd  die." 

"  And  the  horse?  "  queried  Maude. 

"  It  took  half  an  hour  to  dig  her  out.  They  say 
horses  are  intelligent,  but  I  don't  think  they  know 
any  more  than  hens." 

"  I  thought  hens  were  bright,"  said  Maude. 
"  They  say  they  hide  their  eggs  so  we  can't  poach 
and  boil  them." 

"  Well,  you  can  judge.  When  we  moved  into 
this  house  all  the  doors  had  glass  knobs.  I  took 
them  off,  put  them  in  a  box  and  set  them  out  in  the 
barn.  I  saw  a  hen  setting,  but  didn't  notice  her 
particularly  until  one  day  she  got  off  the  nest  while 
I  was  in  the  barn,  and  true  as  I  live,  that  fool  hen 
had  been  trying  to  hatch  out  those  knobs." 

"  They  said  you  have  a  little  boy,  Mr.  Strout," 
Maude  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  "  I  hope  he  isn't 
sick." 

"  No,  he's  all  right.  But  we  never  let  him  come 
to  the  table  when  we  have  company,  because  he 
talks  too  much." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"  That's  the  funny  part  of  it.  My  wife  has  lots 
of  relations,  and  some  wanted  him  named  this,  and 
some  wanted  him  named  that.  So  I  went  to  the 


90         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

library  and  looked  at  all  the  names  in  the  diction- 
ary." 

Maude's  curiosity  was  excited.  "  What  did  you 
finally  decide  upon  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  haven't  named  him  yet.  We  call  him 
No.  3,  I  being  No.  i,  and  my  wife  No.  2." 

After  their  guests  had  departed,  Mrs.  Strout 
asked,  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  Miss  Sawyer  that  our 
boy's  name  was  same  as  yours  ?  " 

"  Why  didn't  I?  "  snapped  her  husband.  "  Be- 
cause she  was  so  blamed  anxious  for  me  to  tell  her. 
Them  Sawyers  are  Aristocrats.  They  look  down  on 
us  common  people." 

Mrs.  Strout  remonstrated.  "  I  thought  he  was 
real  nice,  and  she's  a  lovely  girl.  Besides,  he  set 
you  up  in  business  and  made  you  postmaster." 

"  And  what  did  he  do  it  for  ?  Just  to  show  the 
power  of  money.  What  did  he  want  of  a  grocery 
store  except  to  beat  me  out  of  it  ?  " 

"  But  you  owned  up  in  your  speech  at  the  Town 
Hall  that  you'd  treated  him  mean,  and  that  you 
were  his  friend." 

"  That  was  official.  Do  you  suppose  he  means 
all  he  says?  No!  No  more  than  I  do.  When  I 
get  enough  money,  there  won't  be  but  one  partner 
in  that  grocery  store,  and  his  name  will  be  O. 
Strout." 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER          91 


CHAPTER   VIII 

UNCLE   IKE   AND   OTHERS 

AT  the  breakfast  table  next  morning-,  Maude  sat 
with  her  head  bent  over  her  plate.  All  were  await- 
ing Olive's  advent  with  the  fruit. 

"  At  your  devotions,  Maude  ?  "  asked  Alice. 

"  Yes,  I  am  thanking  the  Lord  that  my  life  was 
saved  by  a  woman.  She  can't  ask  me  to  marry 
her." 

A  trio  of  "  good  mornings  "  greeted  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Gay  as  he  entered  and  took  his  accustomed 
place  at  the  head  of  the  table.  He  bowed  his  head 
and  asked  a  blessing. 

"  Why  do  3^ou  ask  a  blessing,  Mr.  Gay  ?  " 

Mr.  Gay  looked  up,  but  there  was  no  levity  in 
Maude's  eyes. 

"  It  is  our  duty  to  thank  the  Almighty  for  his 
goodness  in  providing  for  our  physical  ends." 

"  But,"  said  Maude,  "  with  the  exception  of  the 
fruit  all  our  food  is  prepared  by  man.  We  couldn't 
eat  it  just  as  it  grows." 


92         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

"  God  has  given  us  the  necessary  intelligence  to 
properly  utilize  his  blessings." 

"  But  some  people  starve  to  death,"  said  Maude, 
forsaking  the  main  argument. 

"  Unfortunately,  yes,  owing  to  man's  lack  of 
brotherly  feeling,  or  rather,  a  hap-hazard  method 
of  distributing  his  blessings.  It  is  not  God's  will 
that  any  of  his  creatures  should  lack  food  or  rai- 
ment." 

"  Do  you  really  believe,  Mr.  Gay,  that  God  takes 
a  personal  interest  in  us?  That  he  sent  Mrs.  Howe 
yesterday  to  save  my  life?  " 

"  I  certainly  do,  Miss  Sawyer." 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  Maude.  "  I  looked 
upon  it  simply  as  a  lucky  coincidence.  But  suppos- 
ing the  horse  had  turned  to  the  left,  and  stopped 
of  his  own  accord  when  he  reached  that  steep  hill. 
What  would  that  prove?  " 

Quincy  and  Alice  who  had  listened  to  the  dis- 
cussion, looked  at  the  clergyman,  who  hesitated 
before  answering.  At  last,  a  smile  lighted  up  his 
face  and  he  replied :  "  It  would  prove  that,  in  that 
particular  case,  you  did  not  need  the  intervention 
of  Heavenly  power." 

"  I'm  not  convinced  yet,"  said  Maude.  "  I  am 
coming  to  hear  you  preach  to-morrow.  Do  make 
it  plain  to  me,  please." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         93 

"  With  God's  help,  I  will  try  to,"  the  clergyman 
answered. 

Quincy  passed  the  morning  at  the  grocery,  mak- 
ing arrangements  for  the  establishment  of  the 
branch  stores,  Mr.  Strout's  plans  being  approved 
with  some  material  modifications.  Strout  told  his 
wife  that  Mr.  Sawyer  had  fixed  it  so  he  couldn't 
get  control  of  the  business,  but  that  he  would  put 
a  flea  in  his  ear  some  fine  day. 

"  I  can't  see  through  it,"  said  Bessie  Strout 
"  Why  have  your  feelings  towards  Mr.  Saw- 
yer changed  so?  I  think  he  is  a  perfect  gentle- 
man." 

"  So  he  is.  So  am  I.  But  we  grew  on  different 
bushes."  Feeling  that  he  did  not  wish  to  confess 
that  jealousy  of  others'  attainments  was  the  real 
foundation  of  his  hostility,  Mr.  Strout  took  his 
departure.  Two  hours  later  Mrs.  Strout  was  de- 
lighted at  receiving  a  call  from  Miss  Maude  Saw- 
yer and  the  Governor's  wife. 

Quincy  wished  to  have  a  talk  with  'Zekiel  about 
Uncle  Ike,  so  he  walked  over  to  the  old  Putnam 
house.  He  had  asked  his  wife  to  accompany  him, 
but  she  declined. 

"  That  house  gives  me  the  shivers,"  she  had  said. 
"  I  never  can  forget  the  ordeal  I  went  through  the 
day  that  Aunt  Heppy  died.  I  gave  the  house  to 


94         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

'Zekiel  because  I  never  could  have  lived  in  it. 
Maude  and  I  are  going  to  call  on  Mrs.  Strout." 

Quincy  found  'Zekiel  in  the  barn,  and  broached 
the  matter  on  his  mind  at  once. 

"  I'm  glad  you  spoke  of  it/'  said  'Zekiel.  "  I 
was  over  to  Mandy's  yesterday  and  Uncle  Ike  wants 
to  come  and  live  with  us.  Not  that  he's  dissatis- 
fied where  he  is,  for  he  likes  Mandy  and  the  chil- 
dren, and  they  do  everything  to  make  him  com- 
fortable—  but  it's  the  stairs.  He  wants  to  eat 
with  the  others;  he  says  he  feels  like  a  prisoner 
cooped  up  in  one  room.  We  have  a  spare  room 
on  the  ground  floor  that  old  Silas  Putnam  used  to 
sleep  in.  I'm  only  afraid  of  one  thing  —  'twill  be 
too  much  care  for  Huldah.  If  I  could  get  some 
one  to  help  her  with  the  work,  she'd  be  glad  and 
willing  to  look  after  Uncle  Ike." 

"  We  must  find  some  way  out  of  it,"  said  Quincy, 
as  they  parted. 

His  next  visit  was  to  the  home  of  Arthur  Scates. 
He  found  the  young  man  in  bed  and  in  a  very  weak 
condition. 

"  He's  had  two  o'  them  bleedin'  spells,"  said  his 
grandmother,  "  an*  las'  night  I  thought  sure  he 
was  a  goner.  But  I  giv  him  some  speerits  of  am- 
mony  and  he  perked  up  a  little.  Yer  see,  Mr.  Saw- 
yer, we're  poor,  an'  it's  no  use  tryin'  to  cover  it 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         95 

up,  an'  I  can't  give  Arthur  the  kind  of  vittles  he 
ought  to  have.  He  wants  nourishin'  things  an'  "  — 
The  old  lady's  feelings  overcame  her  and  she  began 
to  cry.  "  I'm  ashamed  of  myself,  but  I  can't  help 
it.  He's  my  only  son's  boy,  and  he's  an  orphan, 
an'  wuss.  I'm  sixty  years  old,  but  I  can  do  a  day's 
work  with  any  of  the  young  ones,  but  I  can't  leave 
him  alone.  I  should  have  a  conniption  fit  if  I 
did." 

Quincy  thought  it  advisable  to  allow  the  old  lady 
to  have  her  say  out  before  replying. 

"  Mrs.  Scates,  I  think  there  are  brighter  days 
coming  for  you." 

"  The  Lord  knows  I  have  prayed  hard  enough 
for  'em." 

Quincy  spoke  to  Arthur.  "  I  expected  to  see 
you  in  Boston,  but  I  suppose  you  were  in  too  poor 
health  to  come." 

"Tell  him  the  whole  truth,  Arthur,"  said  his 
grandmother  —  "  his  health  was  too  poor  an'  we 
hadn't  any  money." 

"  Arthur,"  said  Quincy,  "  I  am  going  to  find  a 
home  for  you  in  a  sanatorium  where  you  will  have 
the  treatment  you  need  and  the  proper  food  to  build 
you  up.  One  of  these  days,  if  you  can  repay  me, 
well  and  good.  If  not,  I  can  afford  to  give  it. 
Your  voice  may  make  your  fortune  some  day.  And, 


96         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

now,  Mrs.  Scales,  I've  got  some  work  for  you. 
Mrs.  'Zekiel  Pettingill  —  " 

"  She  that  was  Huldy  Mason,"  broke  in  Mrs. 
Scates,  "  she  was  just  the  nicest  girl  in  town." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Quincy,  "  she's  going  to  have 
an  addition  to  her  family  —  " 

"  You  don't  say,"  again  interrupted  Mrs.  Scates. 
"  Well,  I've  nussed  a  good  many  —  " 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  said  Quincy  quickly. 
"  Her  Uncle  Ike  is  coming  to  live  with  her,  and  she 
needs  assistance  in  her  work.  You  must  go  and 
see  her  at  once." 

While  she  was  gone,  Quincy  explained  to  Arthur 
the  nature  of  his  coming  treatment;  how  he  would 
have  to  virtually  live  out  of  doors  daytimes  and 
sleep  with  windows  and  doors  open  at  night.  "  I 
will  see  that  you  have  good  warm  clothes.  I  will 
pay  for  your  board  and  treatment  for  a  year,  and 
give  you  money  for  such  things  as  you  may  need." 

"  I'll  try  hard  to  get  well  so  I  can  repay  you," 
said  Arthur. 

"  She  says  she'll  take  me,"  cried  Mrs.  Scates, 
as  she  entered  the  room  —  "  just  as  soon  as  I  can 
come,  and  here's  a  big  basket  of  apples  and  peaches, 
she  sent  you,  and  —  "  the  poor  woman  was  quite 
out  of  breath.  "  I  met  that  minister,  Mr.  Gay,  and 
he  said  he  was  coming  up  to  see  you,  Arthur." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         97 

"  Did  you  ever  go  to  Mr.  Gay's  church  ?  "  Quincy 
asked  Mrs.  Scates. 

"  Jus'  onct,  and  that  was  enough.  He'll  have  to 
leave  here  sooner  or  later." 

"What  for?" 

"  Why,  he  don't  believe  in  no  divil  —  an'  ye 
can't  make  folks  good  unless  they  knows  there's 
a  divil." 

Quincy  recalled  the  story  of  the  Scotch  woman, 
a  stern  Presbyterian,  who  thought  if  ten  thousand 
were  saved  at  the  final  judgment  that  it  would  be 
"  muckle  many,"  and  who,  when  asked  if  she  ex- 
pected to  be  one  of  the  elect,  replied  "  Sartainly." 
He  felt  that  a  theological  discussion  with  Grandma 
Scates  would  end  in  his  discomfiture  and  he  wisely 
refrained. 

Quincy  reached  Mandy  Maxwell's  just  in  time 
for  dinner,  and,  at  his  request,  it  was  served  in 
Uncle  Ike's  room. 

"  This  is  more  cheerful,"  said  he  to  Quincy.  "  I 
once  thought  that  being  alone  was  the  height  of 
enjoyment  —  and  I  did  enjoy  myself  very  selfishly 
for  a  good  many  years.  Has  Alice  told  you  of  our 
conversation  ?  " 

Quincy  nodded. 

"  I've  been  thinking  about  it  since  and  I  decided 
my  first  move  would  be  to  live,  if  I  could,  with 


98         THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

my  own  flesh  and  blood.  But  while  they've  got 
a  down-stairs  room,  it  will  be  too  much  work  for 
Huldah." 

"  That's  provided  for,"  said  Quincy.  "  Mrs. 
Scates  is  going  to  help  Huldah/* 

"  What's  to  become  of  her  grandson  —  he's  con- 
sumptive they  tell  me." 

"  He's  going  to  a  sanatorium  to  get  cured." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  pay  the  bills  ?  " 

Quincy  nodded  again. 

"  I  get  a  lesson  very  often.  You  are  using  your 
money  to  help  others,  while  I've  hoarded  mine." 

Quincy  looked  at  the  speaker  inquiringly.  Alice 
had  given  him  to  understand  that  her  uncle  had 
used  his  income  for  himself. 

"  I  know  what  you're  thinking,  Mr.  Sawyer.  I 
did  tell  Alice  I  had  an  annuity,  but  I  haven't  spent 
one-tenth  of  what's  coming  to  me.  I  arranged  to 
have  it  put  in  a  savings  bank,  and  I've  drawn  just 
as  little  as  I  could  and  get  along.  I  bought  a  fifty 
thousand  dollar  annuity  at  sixty.  I  got  nine  per 
cent,  on  my  money,  besides  the  savings  bank  inter- 
est. As  near  as  I  can  figure  it  out  I'm  worth  about 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  I've  beat  the  insur- 
ance company  bad,  and  I  ain't  dead  yet.  I  have  all 
this  money,  but  what  good  has  it  done  anybody  ?  " 

"  It  can  do  good  in  the  future,  Uncle." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER         99 

"  I  want  to  leave  something  to  Mandy's  boys  — 
not  too  much  —  for  I'm  afraid  they'd  squander  it, 
and  become  do-nothings.  What  shall  I  do  with 
it?" 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  suggest  a  public  use  for 
your  fortune  ?  " 

"That's  what  I've  been  telling  you  about  it  for. 
You've  a  good  knack  of  disposing  of  your  own  and 
other  folks'  money,  and  I  thought  you  could  help 
me  out." 

Quincy  did  not  speak  for  some  time.  Finally  he 
said,  "Uncle  Ike,  the  Town  Hall  in  Fernborough 
is  but  one  mile  from  the  centre  of  the  city  of  Cot- 
tonton.  That  city  is  peopled,  principally,  with  low- 
paid  cotton  mill  operatives.  Their  employers,  as 
a  rule,  are  more  intent  on  dividends  than  the  moral 
or  physical  condition  of  their  help.  Accidents  are 
common  in  the  mills,  many  are  broken  down  in 
health  by  overwork,  and  those  who  become  mothers 
are  forced  by  necessity  to  resume  work  in  the  mills 
before  their  strength  is  restored." 

Uncle  Ike  shut  his  teeth  with  a  snap.  "  That's 
worse  than  hoarding  money  as  I've  done.  Mine 
may,  as  you  say,  do  good  in  the  future,  but  theirs 
is  degrading  human  beings  at  the  present.  I  wish 
I  could  do  something  for  them,  especially  the  moth- 
ers. It's  a  shame  they  have  to  suffer." 


100    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  You  can  do  something,  Uncle  Ike.  My  sugges- 
tion is,  that  you  leave  the  bulk  of  your  fortune  to 
build  a  hospital  in  Fernborough,  but  provide  in  your 
will  that  the  mill  operatives  of  Cottonton,  or  all 
its  poorer  inhabitants,  if  you  so  wish  it,  shall  be 
entitled  to  free  treatment  therein." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  cried  Uncle  Ike.  "  As  soon  as  I 
get  settled  at  'Zeke's,  I'll  send  for  Squire  Rundlett 
to  come  and  make  out  my  will.  You've  taken  a 
big  load  off  my  mind,  Mr.  Sawyer." 

As  Quincy  was  mounting  Obed's  Hill  slowly, 
for  it  was  very  steep,  he  thought  to  himself  — 
"  Getting  Uncle  Ike  to  do  something  practical 
towards  helping  others  was  much  better  than  talk- 
ing theoretical  religion  to  him." 

When  he  reached  the  Hawkins  House,  Andrew 
was  getting  ready  to  drive  to  Cottonton  to  meet  the 
three  o'clock  express  from  Boston. 

"  There's  a  friend  of  ours  coming  down  on  that 
train,  Andrew  —  a  young  man  named  Merry."  He 
took  out  his  note  book,  wrote  a  few  lines,  and  passed 
the  slip  with  some  money  to  Andrew. 

"  You  get  that  —  have  it  covered  up  so  no  one 
can  see  what  it  is,  and  leave  it  in  the  barn  when  you 
get  back." 

Quincy  told  his  wife  about  Arthur  Scates  and 
Uncle  Ike. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        101 

"  I'm  going  to  take  Uncle  Ike  to  Mr.  Gay's 
church  to-morrow,"  he  added,  "  but  I  didn't  say 
anything  about  it  to-day.  I'm  not  going  to  give 
him  time  to  invent  excuses." 

Maude  did  not  conceal  her  pleasure  at  meeting 
Harry  again.  She  was  a  companionable  girl,  and 
Mr.  Merry  was  too  sensible  to  think,  because  a 
young  lady  was  sociable,  that  it  was  any  indication 
that  she  was  falling  in  love  with  him. 

"  Are  you  going  riding  this  evening,  Alice  ?  " 
Quincy  walked  to  the  window.  "  The  sunset  is 
just  glorious.  There's  a  purple  cloud  in  the  west, 
the  edges  of  which  is  bordered  with  gold.  There 
are  rifts  in  it,  through  which  the  sun  shows  — 
and  now,  come  quickly,  Alice,  the  sun,  a  ball  of 
fire,  has  just  sunk  below  the  cloud  which  seems 
resting  upon  it." 

When  they  turned  away  from  the  window,  Alice 
said: 

"  I  don't  think  I  will  ride  any  more.  Maude 
must  take  the  horse  I  had  —  he  is  so  gentle.  What 
a  pity  Mr.  Merry  cannot  go  with  her  for  a  ride." 

"  He  can.  I  sent  Andrew  for  a  saddle  for  him 
to  use." 

"  Quincy,  you  are  the  most  thoughtful  man  in 
the  world." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  Maude,  with  Harry 


102   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

riding  the  mare,  were  on  their  way  towards  the 
Centre  Road.  When  they  returned,  an  hour  later, 
there  had  been  no  runaway,  unless  Harry's  heart 
had  undergone  one.  Maude's  countenance  did  not, 
however,  indicate  that  she  had  participated  in  any 
rescue. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        103 


CHAPTER   IX 

A    "  STORY  "   SERMON 

THE  influx  of  mill  operatives  and  mechanics 
from  Cottonton  in  search  of  a  breathing  place  after 
a  hard  day's  work,  had  led  to  the  building  up  of 
the  territory  north  of  Pettingill  Street  and  east  of 
Montrose  Avenue.  This  fact  had  led  to  the  erec- 
tion of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gay's  church  in  the  extreme 
northern  part  of  the  town,  but  near  to  both  Mont- 
rose  town  and  Cottonton  city. 

"  We  are  all  coming  to  your  church  this  morn- 
ing, Mr.  Gay,"  said  Quincy  at  breakfast. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you,  but  you  must  not 
expect  a  city  service.  The  majority,  in  fact  all, 
of  my  parishioners  are  common  people,  and  I  use 
plain  language  to  them." 

"  I  think  simplicity  in  devotional  exercises  much 
more  effective  than  an  ornate  service/'  said  Alice. 

"  Do  you  have  a  choir?  "  asked  Maude. 

"  We  can't  afford  one,  but  we  have  good  con- 
gregational singing." 


104   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  I'm  glad  of  that/'  said  Maude.  "  I  hate  these 
paid  choirs  with  their  names  and  portraits  in  the 
Sunday  papers." 

"  I  shall  take  the  carryall  and  go  for  Uncle  Ike. 
It  is  a  beautiful  morning  and  you  will  all  enjoy 
the  walk/'  Quincy  added. 

Uncle  Ike,  at  first,  gave  a  decided  negative.  "  I 
haven't  been  inside  a  church  for  many  a  year  and 
it's  too  late  to  begin  now." 

"  That's  no  argument  at  all,"  said  Quincy. 
"  But  my  principal  reason  for  wishing  you  to  go 
is  so  you  can  see  the  people  that  your  hospital  is 
going  to  benefit  one  of  these  days." 

"  But  these  preachers  use  such  highfalutin'  lan- 
guage, and  so  many  '  firstlies  '  and  *  secondlies '  I 
lose  my  hold  on  the  text." 

"  Mr.  Gay  is  a  common,  everyday  sort  of  man, 
does  not  pose  when  out  of  his  pulpit,  and  never 
talks  over  the  heads  of  his  audience." 

"  How  do  you  know  all  that?  " 

"  I  sit  with  him  at  table,  and  I've  studied  him. 
Then  he  told  us  not  to  expect  a  city  sermon  for  he 
used  simple  language,  and  they  have  congregational 
singing." 

"  Well,  I'll  go  —  this  once,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  and 
Quincy  assisted  him  in  making  his  preparations. 
On  their  way  to  the  church  they  passed  two  couples 


•  OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        105 

—  Alice  and  Mrs.  Hawkins,  and  Maude  and  Mr. 
Merry.  Mr.  Jonas  Hawkins  could  not  leave  home 
for  he  was  afraid  the  cats  would  carry  off  his  last 
brood  of  chickens.  Some  fifty  had  been  hatched 
out,  but  only  a  dozen  had  survived  the  hot  weather, 
heavy  rains,  and  the  many  diseases  prevalent  among 
chickens. 

When  Mr.  Gay  arose  to  give  out  the  first  hymn, 
Maude  said  to  Mr.  Merry,  "  Why,  he  looks  like 
a  different  man.  His  red  hair  is  a  beautiful  brown." 

"  It's  the  light  from  the  coloured  glass  windows/' 
commented  Mr.  Merry. 

"  Then  it  must  be  the  curtains  in  Mrs.  Haw- 
kins'  dining  room  that  colour  his  hair  at  home," 
retorted  Maude. 

How  grandly  rose  the  volume  of  tone  from  scores 
of  throats!  Even  Uncle  Ike's  quavering  voice 
joined  in. 

11  All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name, 
Let  nations  prostrate  fall ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem, 
And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all." 

The  organ  creaked  and  wheezed  somewhat,  but 
so  many  fresh,  young  voices  softened  its  discordant 
tones. 

A  short  prayer,  and  Mr.  Gay  began  his  sermon, 
if  such  it  can  be  called. 


106    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  MY  BRETHREN  :  My  text,  to-day  is,  '  The  fool 
hath  said  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  God.'  All  na- 
tions have  a  God,  even  if  all  the  people  do  not  be- 
lieve in  him.  The  majority  in  each  nation  does 
believe  in  a  God.  Are  those  who  do  not  believe 
all  fools?  Unhappily,  no.  There  are  many  highly 
educated  men  and  women  who  deny  the  existence 
of  God.  They  claim  man  is  a  part  of  Nature,  and 
Nature  is  all.  They  forget  the  poet  who  wrote 

"  «  Man  is  but  part  of  a  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  soul.' 

"  Remember,  God  is  the  Soul.  Each  of  you  has 
a  soul,  a  spark  of  the  Divinity. 

"  I  can  best  support  my  argument  by  a  story  — 
a  true  one. 

"  I  once  knew  a  young  man  whom  we  will  call 
Richard.  He  had  a  well-to-do  father  and  was  sent 
to  college.  When  he  graduated,  his  father,  a  pious 
man,  wished  him  to  study  for  the  ministry.  He 
objected,  saying  his  health  was  poor.  He  wished 
to  go  into  the  mountains,  he  lived  in  the  West,  and 
his  father  consented. 

"  He  drifted  into  a  mining  camp  and  whatever 
regard  he  may  have  had  for  religion,  soon  disap- 
peared. He  was  not  a  fool,  but,  in  his  heart,  he 
said  there  was  no  God. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        107 

"  With  another  young  man,  whom  we  will  call 
Thomas,  he  formed  a  partnership,  and  they  went 
prospecting  for  gold,  —  gold  that  the  God  whom 
they  would  not  acknowledge  had  placed  in  the  earth. 

"  They  were  attacked  by  Indians  and  Thomas 
was  killed.  Richard  was  obliged  to  flee  for  his  life. 
His  food  was  soon  exhausted,  he  had  no  water, 
he  had  no  God  to  whom  he  could  pray  for  help. 

"  He  came  to  a  hole  in  the  ground,  near  a  foot- 
hill. He  got  upon  his  knees  and  looked  down  — 
yes,  there  was  water  —  not  much,  but  enough  for 
his  needs  —  but  it  was  beyond  his  reach.  He  leaned 
over  the  edge  to  gaze  upon  the  life-giving  fluid 
that  God  has  given  us,  and  his  hat  fell  into  the 
well.  In  his  hat  was  his  gold-dust  —  his  fortune 
—  so  useless  to  him  then.  He  forgot  his  thirst  for 
water  in  his  thirst  for  gold. 

"  There  was  a  stout  branch  of  a  tree  near  by. 
He  placed  it  across  the  top  of  the  hole.  He  would 
drop  down  into  the  well,  and  recover  his  hat,  get 
a  drink  of  water  and  draw  himself  up  again.  The 
well  did  not  seem  more  than  six  feet  deep,  and 
with  his  arms  extended  he  could  easily  reach  the 
branch  and  draw  himself  up  to  safety.  He  dropped 
into  the  well,  found  his  hat  with  its  precious  gold, 
drank  some  of  the  muddy  water  which,  really,  was 
then  more  precious  to  him  than  the  metal,  and 


108    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

looked  up.  He  extended  his  arms  but  they  fell 
short  some  six .  feet  of  reaching  the  branch.  He 
had  under-estimated  the  depth  of  the  well  —  it  was 
fifteen  instead  of  six  feet. 

"  He  would  clamber  up  the  sides,  he  would  cut 
steps  with  his  knife  and  make  a  ladder.  The  earth 
was  soft,  and  crumbled  beneath  his  weight.  That 
mode  of  escape  was  impossible.  He  was  a  prisoner 
in  a  hole  with  only  muddy  water  to  sustain  life 
for  a  short  time,  and  no  prospect  of  escape. 

"  Night  came  on.  He  looked  up  at  the  stars. 
They  seemed  no  farther  away  than  the  top  of  the 
well. 

"  When  a  child  he  had  been  taught  to  say  '  Our 
Father  who  art  in  Heaven/  Did  he  have  a  Father 
in  Heaven?  Was  Heaven  where  those  stars  were? 
Was  that  Father  in  Heaven  the  Being  that  folks 
called  God? 

"  He  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  he  awoke  the 
stars  were  still  shining,  but  no  nearer  than  before. 

"  In  his  loneliness,  in  his  despair,  he  cried,  '  Oh, 
God,  help  me ! '  He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands 
and  wept.  He  had  forsaken  the  belief  of  a  life- 
time. He  had  acknowledged  that  there  was  a  God ! 

"  There  was  a  rustling  sound  above  him,  and  a 
heavy  body  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  well.  Some 
wild  animal!  He  was  unarmed  with  the  exception 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       109 

of  his  hunting-knife.  That  was  slight  protection 
against  a  savage  beast,  but  he  would  defend  him- 
self to  the  last. 

"  He  listened.  The  animal,  whatever  it  was,  was 
breathing,  but  it  did  not  move.  Perhaps  it  was 
stunned  by  the  fall,  but  would  soon  revive.  He 
would  kill  it.  A  few  firm  blows  and  the  beast  was 
dead.  It  did  not  breathe.  Its  body  was  losing  its 
warmth.  He  was  safe  from  that  danger. 

"  He  slept  again.  When  he  awoke  the  sun  was 
high.  Beside  him  was  the  dead  body  of  a  mountain 
lion. 

"  He  drank  some  more  of  the  muddy  water.  He 
was  so  hungry.  Was  there  no  n  jans  of  escape? 
Must  he  die  there  with  that  dead  iion  for  a  com- 
panion ? 

"  He  had  an  inspiration.  With  his  knife  he  cut 
the  lion's  hide  into  strips.  He  tied  these  together 
until  he  had  a  rope.  He  threw  it  over  the  branch 
and  drew  himself  up.  The  Earth  looked  so  bright 
and  cheerful.  He  threw  himself  upon  his  knees 
and  thanked  God  for  his  deliverance.  He  was  an 
educated  '  fool '  no  longer.  He  had  found  God  in 
that  pool  of  muddy  water,  and  God  had  sent  a  lion 
to  deliver  him. 

"  How  do  I  know  that  the  story  I  have  told  you 
is  true?  Richard  returned  to  his  father's  home. 


110    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

He  went  back  to  college  and  entered  the  divinity 
school.  He  became  a  clergyman,  and  he  has 
preached  to  you,  to-day,  from  the  text,  '  The  Fool 
hath  said  in  his  heart  that  there  is  no  God ! '  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        111 


CHAPTER    X 

THE    RAISED    CHECK 

THE  Rev.  Mr.  Gay's  parishioners  looked  at  him 
in  astonishment.  He  had  disbelieved  in  God  but 
had  been  converted  in  what  seemed  a  miraculous 
manner.  And  yet,  perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  only 
a  coincidence.  Alice  felt  sure  that  Uncle  Ike  would 
be  of  that  opinion. 

The  pastor,  as  soon  as  he  had  made  his  sensa- 
tional declaration,  said  "  Let  us  pray."  His  appeal 
was  for  those  who  doubted  —  that  God  would  open 
their  eyes  —  but  not  as  his  had  been  —  to  acknowl- 
edge his  power  and  mercy. 

Then  followed  "  Old  Hundred." 

"  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow, 
Praise  Him  all  creatures  here  below." 

A  benediction,  and  the  service  was  over. 

There  were  seats  for  four  in  the  carryall.  Maude 
preferred  to  walk  and  Mr.  Merry  was  of  the  same 
mind.  Mrs.  Hawkins  sat  with  Quincy  on  the  front 
seat,  and  Alice  with  Uncle  Ike. 


112   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  sermon,  Uncle  Ike?  " 
Alice  asked. 

"  A  thrilling  personal  experience.  The  fear  of 
death  has  a  peculiar  effect  on  some  people  —  it  kills 
their  will  power.  Did  Mr.  Gay  know  that  I  was 
to  attend  his  church  ?  " 

Alice  flushed.  "  Quincy  mentioned  it  at  the 
breakfast  table." 

"  Was  he  informed  of  my  opinions  on  religious 
matters  ?  " 

"  They  were  not  mentioned  before  him." 

"  Another  coincidence  "  —  and  Uncle  Ike  re- 
lapsed into  silence. 

As  they  were  nearing  the  Maxwell  house,  Alice 
asked,  "  Uncle  Ike,  are  you  willing  to  have  Mr. 
Gay  call  upon  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  objection,  if  he  will  let  me  choose 
the  subjects  for  conversation,"  was  the  reply. 

In  the  evening  Maude  and  Mr.  Merry  walked 
to  the  Willows  and  back. 

"  Have  you  become  a  matchmaker?  "  Alice  asked 
her  husband. 

"  What  prompts  the  question  ?  " 

"  Maude  and  Mr.  Merry  have  been  thrown  to- 
gether very  much.  You  approve  or  you  would  pre- 
vent their  intimacy." 

Quincy  laughed.     "  Maude   undoubtedly  has  a 


OF    QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER        113 

heart,  but  she  doesn't  know  where  it  is.  Mr.  Merry 
is  too  sensible  a  fellow  to  imagine  Maude  will  fall 
in  love  with  him,  or  that  he  could  support  her  if 
she  did." 

"  Poor  logic,  Quincy.  Such  marriages  take  place 
often,  but  unless  they  are  followed  with  parental 
blessings,  —  and  financial  backing,  —  seldom  prove 
successful. 

"  Well,  the  intimacy  will  end  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. He  will  return  to  the  city,  and,  probably, 
never  see  her  again." 

"  I've  no  objection  to  Mr.  Merry.  I  consider 
him  a  very  fine  young  man.  I  was  thinking  of 
Maude's  happiness." 

Mr.  Merry  did  return  to  Boston  early  the  next 
morning,  and,  to  all  appearances,  Miss  Sawyer 
looked  upon  his  action  as  a  very  natural  one,  and 
one  in  which  she  was  not  particularly  interested. 
If  she  had  any  secret  thoughts  concerning  him  they 
were  driven  from  her  mind  by  the  receipt  of  a  tele- 
gram just  as  they  sat  down  to  dinner. 

"  REDFORD,  MASS.,  July  2,  187 — . 
"  MAUDE  SAWYER,  Care  of  Q.  A.  Sawyer, 

"  Fernborough,  via  Cottonton. 
"  Do  please  come  home  at  once.    Something  ter- 
rible has  happened.  FLORENCE." 


114   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"What  can  it  be?  What  do  you  think  is  the 
matter?  The  message  is  so  inexplicit." 

Her  brother  replied,  "  Florence  evidently  is  liv- 
ing, unless  some  one  used  her  name  in  the  telegram. 
If  father  or  mother  were  sick  or  dead  she  certainly 
would  have  said  so." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Maude.  "  She  might  wish 
to  break  the  news  gently,  in  person." 

"  I  am  willing  to  wager,"  said  Ouincy,  "  that 
the  trouble  affects  her  more  than  any  one  else.  But 
you  must  go,  Maude,  and  Alice  and  I  will  go  with 
you,  by  the  first  train  to-morrow  morning." 

Quincy  had  Andrew  get  the  carryall  ready  and 
he  and  Alice  went  round  to  say  good-bye.  He  told 
Arthur  Scates  he  would  come  or  send  for  him  soon, 
and  that  his  grandmother  could  go  and  help  Mrs. 
Pettingill. 

Andrew  was  told  to  return  the  saddle  to  Cotton- 
ton,  and  Quincy  decided  that  they  would  go  to  Bos- 
ton by  way  of  Eastborough  Centre,  so  Mr.  Parsons 
could  be  informed  that  they  were  through  with  the 
saddle  horses.  They  found  Uncle  Ike  fully  com- 
mitted to  the  idea  of  founding  the  hospital.  He  had 
seen  Squire  Rundlett,  who  was  drawing  up  his  will. 
The  goodbye  seemed  more  like  a  farewell  in  Uncle 
Ike's  case,  for  he  had  aged  much  in  the  last  year 
and  was  really  very  feeble.  Alice  told  him  that 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        115 

Mr.  Gay  had  promised  to  call  upon  him  in  a  few 
days. 

When  they  reached  Boston,  Quincy  said: 
"  Maude,  you  must  take  the  train  at  once  for  Red- 
ford  and  see  what  the  trouble  is.  I  will  leave 
Alice  at  home  and  run  down  to  see  you  this  after- 
noon." 

'Maude  found  Florence  in  her  room,  her  nose  red 
and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Now,  Florence,  what  is  it  all  about?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  horrible,"  and  there  was  a  fresh  flood 
of  tears. 

"  Are  you  sick?  Mother  says  she  is  well  and  so 
is  father." 

"  It's  all  about  Reggie." 

"  Capt.  Hornaby  ?    Is  he  dead  ?  " 

"  Worse.  I  wish  he  was.  No,  I  don't  mean  that. 
But  the  disgrace." 

Maude  was  getting  impatient.  "  What  has  he 
done  ?  Married  somebody  else  ?  But  he  never  pro- 
posed to  you,  did  he  ?  " 

Florence  wiped  away  her  tears.  "  No,  not  ex- 
actly. But  we  understood  each  other." 

"  Well,  I  can't  understand  you.  Why  don't  you 
tell  me  what  he's  done?  " 

"  Well  you  know  that  father  loaned  him  some 
money  when  he  lost  his  pocketbook  in  the  pond." 


116   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Maude  sniffed.  "  I  imagined  he  did  —  nobody 
told  me  so." 

"  Father  gave  him  a  check  for  five  hundred  dol- 
lars." 

"  And  the  Captain's  run  away  and  won't  pay. 
Those  foreign  fellows  often  do  that.  What  an  ap- 
propriate name  Hornaby  Hook  is." 

"  He  has  paid.  He  sent  father  the  money  and 
said  he  was  going  back  to  England  at  once." 

"  So,  ho !  I  understand  now.  My  sister  has  been 
deserted,  jilted,  snubbed,  and  her  Sawyer  pride  is 
hurt.  If  you'd  written  me  that  I'd  be  in  Fern- 
borough  now,  and  so  would  Quincy  and  Alice. 
Florence,  it  was  mean  of  you  to  send  such  a  blood- 
curdling telegram  for  so  simple  a  thing." 

"  But  that  isn't  all,"  cried  Florence.  "  When  the 
check  for  five  hundred  dollars  that  father  gave  him 
came  back  it  had  been  raised  to  five  thousand,  and 
father  has  lost  all  that  money.  Oh,  it  is  all  over, 
and  I  shall  never  see  him  again." 

Another  paroxysm  of  sobs,  and  a  flood  of  tears. 
Maude's  sisterly  sympathy  was,  at  last,  aroused. 

"  Don't  take  on  so,  Flossie.  Perhaps  he  didn't 
do  it  after  all." 

"  But  father  is  so  indignant.  Think  of  his  being 
paid  back  with  his  own  money." 

Maude  could  not  help  laughing.     "That  was 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       117 

rather  nervy,  I'll  admit.  But  that  very  fact  makes 
me  think  he's  innocent." 

She  didn't  really  think  so,  but  Florence  was  likely 
to  go  into  hysterics  and  something  must  be  done. 

"  You  know  his  address.  You  had  better  write 
to  him  and  see  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself." 

"  I  can't.  Father  says  if  I  have  any  further  com- 
munication with  him,  directly,  or  indirectly,  he'll 
disown  me." 

"  Well,  wait  awhile.  Father'll  calm  down  in 
time.  Cheer  up,  Flossie,  dry  your  eyes,  and  do 
put  some  powder  on  your  nose.  It's  as  red  as  a 
beet." 

A  little  later  in  the  season,  Quincy  and  Alice 
started  for  their  summer  home  at  Nantucket,  where 
they  spent  a  pleasant  two  months,  Quincy  going  up 
to  Boston  when  needed  at  the  State  House.  As 
autumn  approached,  and  the  time  for  the  state  elec- 
tion drew  near,  great  influence  was  brought  to  bear 
on  Quincy  to  .make  him  rescind  his  decision,  and 
run  for  governor  a  second  time,  but  his  mind  was 
fully  made  up,  and  in  spite  of  the  urgings  of  the 
leaders  of  his  own  party,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
public  at  large,  he  remained  firm  in  his  resolve. 

Mr.  Evans  worked  hard  for  the  nomination,  but 
his  predilections  were  well  known  among  the  la- 


118   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

bouring  classes,  and  he  failed  to  receive  the  neces- 
sary votes.  Benjamin  Ropes,  a  man  respected  by 
all,  was  elected  governor,  and  in  January  Quincy 
retired  from  public  life,  and  settled  down  to  what 
he  thought  would  be  a  period  of  rest  and  quiet  with 
his  wife  in  the  Mount  Vernon  Street  home. 

About  the  middle  of  the  month,  however,  a  letter 
came  from  Aunt  Ella. 

"  FERNBOROUGH  HALL, 
"  HEATHFIELD,  SUSSEX. 

"MY  DEAR  QUINCY  AND  ALICE:  I  was  going 
to  write  nephew  and  niece,  but  you  both  seem  nearer 
and  dearer  to  me  than  those  formal  titles  express. 
I  see  that  Quincy  is  now  out  of  politics,  and  I  know 
that  he  needs  a  change.  Your  rooms  are  all  ready 
for  you  here,  and  I  want  you  both  to  come,  just 
as  soon  as  you  can.  It  will  be  the  best  for  you,  too, 
Alice,  as  you  will  escape  the  very  bad  winter  that 
Boston  always  has.  I  was  delighted  to  hear  the 
news,  and  I  do  hope  and  pray  it  will  be  a  boy,  — 
then  we  shall  have  a  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior. 

"  I  wish  Maude  could  come  with  you.  I  could 
introduce  her  to  society  here,  and,  I  have  found  — 
don't  think  me  conceited  —  that  there  is  nothing 
that  improves  an  English  gentleman  so  much  as 
having  an  American  wife.  If  some  of  your  nice 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        119 

young  American  gentlemen  would  marry  some  Eng- 
lish girls  and  transplant  them  to  American  soil, 
I  think  the  English-speaking  race  would  benefit 
thereby. 

11  Sir  Stuart  is  well,  and  so  is 

"  Your  loving  aunt, 

"  ELLA." 

"  The  same  Aunt  Ella  as  of  old,"  said  Quincy, 
"  always  full  of  new  ideas  and  quaint  suggestions. 
It  would  be  a  good  thing  for  you  to  go,  I  think, 
Alice,  and  I  should  really  relish  the  change  myself. 
What  do  you  say,  a  steamer  sails  next  week  from 
here;  shall  we  go?  " 

"  Why,  Quincy,  it  is  rather  sudden,  but  I  should 
be  glad  to  see  Aunt  Ella  and  Linda  again,  and  I 
really  see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  go." 

"Well,  we  will  call  that  settled,  then.  And 
Maude,  do  you  think  she  would  join  us?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  take  Mr.  Merry  with  you,"  re- 
plied Alice  with  a  good  natured  laugh. 

Quincy  called  at  the  Beacon  Street  house  that 
afternoon,  and  had  a  talk  with  Maude  about  going 
to  Europe  with  them.  He  read  her  Aunt  Ella's 
letter,  and  added, 

"  You  see,  she  wishes  you  to  come  with  us." 

"  Well,  I  won't  go.     She  wants  to  marry  me  off 


120   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

to  some  Englishman  with  a  title  and  no  funds.  If 
I  ever  get  married,  my  husband  will  be  an  Amer- 
ican. No,  take  Florence,  and  let  her  hunt  up  Cap- 
tain Hornaby,  her  recreant  lover,  —  if  he  was  one. 
She  says  they  '  understood '  each  other,  but  it's 
evident  none  of  us  comprehended  —  I  came  near 
saying  apprehended  —  him." 

"  I  will  speak  to  father  about  it,"  said  Quincy. 
"  Please  tell  him  that  I'll  call  at  his  office  to-mor- 
row morning".  Give  my  love  to  Florence.  I  won't 
trouble  her  about  it  until  Fve  seen  father." 

Alice  thought  Florence's  substitution  for  Maude, 
as  regarded  the  trip  to  England,  was  advisable,  and 
certainly  showed  Maude's  good-heartedness. 

When  Quincy  saw  his  father  he  made  no  men- 
tion of  the  Hornaby  incident  in  connection  with 
Florence  joining  them  on  their  trip  abroad,  but  in 
spite  of  this  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer 
was,  at  first,  strongly  opposed  to  the  idea  of  his 
daughter  going  away  from  home.  Quincy  knew  his 
father  too  well  to  argue  the  matter,  and  turned  the 
conversation  to  other  subjects. 

"  I  have  brought  my  will,  father,  and  wish  you 
would  put  it  in  your  safe.  I  have  left  everything 
to  Alice  to  do  with  as  she  pleases.  I  have  named 
you  and  Dr.  Paul  Culver  as  my  executors.  Have 
you  any  objection  to  serving?  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       121 

"  You  will  be  more  likely  to  act  as  my  executor 
than  I  as  yours,  but  I  accept  the  trust,  feeling  sure 
that  I  shall  have  no  duties  to  perform." 

"  There's  another  matter,  father,  I  wish  to  speak 
about.  My  former  private  secretary,  Mr.  Merry, 
is  studying  law.  When  my  term  expired  he,  of 
course,  lost  his  position,  for  my  successor,  naturally, 
wished  one  of  his  own  friends  in  the  place.  If  I 
were  a  lawyer,  I  would  take  him  into  my  office, 
but  —  " 

"  You  can't  use  him  in  your  grocery  store,"  in- 
terrupted the  Hon.  Nathaniel.  Quincy  took  the 
sarcasm  good-naturedly,  and  laughed.  That  his 
father  had,  to  some  extent,  overcome  his  displeas- 
ure at  his  son  becoming  a  tradesman,  was  shown 
by  his  next  words. 

"  Our  law  business  is  increasing  daily,  and  per- 
haps I  can  make  an  opening  for  him  in  the  near 
future.  I  will  bear  him  in  mind." 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  reserved  his  decision  in  re- 
lation to  Florence's  trip  until  he  had  discussed  the 
matter  with  his  wife,  but  the  next  day  Maude  saw 
Alice  and  told  her  that  her  father  had  consented, 
on  one  condition,  and  that  was  that  Quincy  would 
bring  her  back  with  him  when  he  returned  to  Amer- 
ica. The  Hon.  Nathaniel  was  still  suspicious  of 
Aunt  Ella,  and  evidently  thought  that  she  wished 


122   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

to  get  control  of  his  daughter  as  she  had  of  his 
son. 

Quincy  gave  his  father  the  required  promise. 
Florence  must  have  time  to  prepare  for  such  a  long 
journey,  so  Quincy  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  plan 
of  sailing  from  Boston  on  a  certain  date  as  he  had 
intended.  Besides,  he  wanted,  personally,  to  see 
how  Arthur  Scates  was  getting  along  at  the  Sana- 
torium which  was  at  Lyndon  in  the  Adirondacks, 
and  so  he  booked  passage  on  the  steamer  Altonia, 
to  sail  from  New  York  in  three  weeks. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        123 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE   WRECK   OF   THE   ALTONIA 

"  FLORENCE  will  be  ready  to  start  to-morrow," 
said  Alice.  This  was  welcome  intelligence  to 
Quincy,  who  wished  several  days  to  spare  in  New 
York  before  sailing. 

As  soon  as  his  wife  and  sister  were  located  at 
a  hotel  in  New  York,  he  made  the  trip  to  Lyndon 
in  the  Adirondacks  to  see  Arthur  Scates.  He  found 
him  greatly  improved,  and  he  told  Quincy  that  he 
had  not  felt  so  well  in  years.  The  doctors,  too, 
were  more  than  pleased  with  his  condition,  and  said 
that  it  was  only  a  question  of  a  few  months  when 
he  would  be  entirely  well  again. 

When  he  returned  to  New  York  he  found  that 
Alice  had  been  to  visit  Mrs.  Ernst  in  West  4ist 
Street.  Madame  Archimbault  lived  with  them  and 
still  carried  on  the  millinery  establishment  on 
Broadway,  in  which  Quincy  had  accidentally  dis- 
covered the  long-sought  Linda  Putnam  masquer- 
ading under  the  name  of  Celeste.  How  that  dis- 


124   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

covery  had  operated  to  change  the  lives  of  many 
people  came  forcibly  to  Quincy  as  he  sought  Leo- 
pold Ernst  in  his  down-town  office. 

Leopold  was  almost  hidden  behind  piles  of  manu- 
scripts and  newspapers  when  Quincy  entered  his 
room. 

"  Up  to  your  neck,  Leopold  ?  " 

As  soon  as  Leopold  saw  who  had  addressed  him, 
he  jumped  up,  pushed  a  pile  of  manuscripts  from 
his  desk  to  the  floor,  and  grasped  Quincy's  extended 
hand  in  both  of  his. 

"  Let  me  help  you  pick  up  your  papers,"  said 
Quincy. 

"  No,  they're  in  their  proper  places.  They're 
rejected.  I  have  accepted  two  out  of  fifty  or  more. 
The  American  author  sends  tons  to  the  literary 
mill,  but  it  grinds  out  but  a  few  pounds.  But  the 
novices  are  improving.  They  will  yet  lead  the 
world,  for  we  have  a  new  country  full  of  God's 
wonderful  works,  and  a  composite  population  whose 
loves  and  hates  reproduce  in  new  scenes  all  the  pas- 
sions of  the  Old  World.  They  are  the  same  pic- 
tures of  human  goodness  and  frailty  in  new  frames 
—  and  my  business  is  to  judge  the  workmanship  of 
the  frames." 

They  talked  about  old  times,  particularly  the 
success  of  Alice's  first  romance. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        125 

"  Marriage  is  often  fatal  to  literary  activity.  Is 
your  wife  to  write  another  book?  " 

"  I  think  not.  We  expect  an  addition  —  not 
edition  —  to  our  family  library  soon  after  our  re- 
turn from  England." 

"  That  % settles  it.  Literature  takes  a  back  seat 
when  Maternity  becomes  its  competitor.  It  is  well. 
Otherwise,  how  could  we  keep  up  our  supply  of 
authors?" 

The  evening  before  the  sailing  of  the  Altonia, 
a  happy  party  assembled  in  a  private  dining  room 
at  Quincy's  hotel.  Toasts  were  drunk.  Alice  and 
Rosa  sang  and  Florence  accompanied  and  played 
classic  selections  upon  the  piano. 

"  Bon  voyage,"  cried  Leopold,  as  they  separated. 
"  Make  notes  of  something  really  new,  make  a  book 
of  up-to-date  travels,  and  our  house  will  publish  it 
for  you,  for  I'll  recommend  it  no  matter  how  bad 
it  is.  We  have  to  do  that  often  for  friends  of  the 
firm,  —  why  not  for  our  own?  " 

A  foggy  night  on  the  ocean.  The  barometer 
ranged  low.  An  upward  glance  disclosed  a  black 
mist  —  no  sign  of  moon  or  stars.  A  bad  night 
on  land,  when  trains  of  cars  crash  into  others  laden 
with  humanity  —  some  dying  mercifully  without 
knowing  the  cause;  others  cruelly,  by  slow  crema- 


126   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

tion,  with  willing  hands  nearby;  powerless  to 
help. 

A  bad  night  off  shore,  when  freight-laden  craft, 
deceived  by  beacon  lights,  are  beached  upon  the 
treacherous  sand  or  dashed  against  jagged  rocks. 
The  life-savers,  with  rocket,  and  gun  and  line,  and 
breeches-buoys,  try  in  vain,  and,  as  a  last  resort, 
grasp  the  oars  of  the  life-boat  and  bring  to  safety 
one  or  two  of  a  crew  of  ten.  Sad  hearts  in  homes 
when  the  news  comes;  but  it  is  only  one  of  the 
scenes  in  the  drama  of  life. 

A  bad  night  at  sea  —  with  a  great  ocean  liner, 
its  iron  heart  pulsating,  plunging  through  the  black 
waves  into  dense  mountains  of  fog. 

Despite  the  darkness  and  chill  of  the  winter 
night,  Quincy,  Alice,  and  Florence  were  on  the 
deck  of  the  Altonia.  Alice  shuddered  and  Quincy 
drew  her  wrap  more  closely  about  her. 

"  Shall  we  go  down  into  the  cabin  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.  There  is  nothing  enjoyable  about  this 
Cimmerian  gloom,  and  yet  it  has  its  attractions. 
Florence,  what  is  it  that  Tom  Hood  wrote  about 
London  fog?  " 

"  I  only  remember  one  line,  and  I'm  not  sure  I 
can  quote  that  correctly.  I  think  it  reads :  '  No 
sun,  no  moon/  I  should  add  '  no  stars,  no  proper 
time  of  day/  " 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        127 

During  the  two  days  since  leaving  New  York, 
Florence  had  been  a  creature  of  moods :  sad,  when 
she  brooded  over  her  trouble  due,  she  felt  sure,  to 
another's  act;  light-hearted  when  she  thought  of 
the  prospect  of  again  meeting  Reginald  and  having 
him  prove  his  innocence. 

She  had  been  spared  newspaper  publicity.  Not 
for  ten  times  the  sum  he  had  lost  would  the  Hon. 
Nathaniel  have  had  his  daughter's  name  in  the  pub- 
lic prints.  He  was  a  lawyer,  but  it  was  his  business 
to  get  other  people  out  of  trouble,  and  not  to  get 
his  own  family  into  it  —  which  shows  that  great 
lawyers  are  not  exempt  from  that  very  common 
human  frailty,  selfishness. 

Sounds  of  applause  were  borne  to  their  ears. 
"  Let  us  go  in,"  said  Florence,  "  some  one  has  been 
singing." 

In  the  main  saloon,  all  was  merriment.  Each 
passenger  had  faith  in  Capt.  Robert  Haskins,  who 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  hundreds  of  times.  The 
Altonia  belonged  to  a  lucky  line,  the  luck  that 
follows  careful  foresight  as  regards  every  detail, 
the  luck  that  brings  safety  and  success  from  con- 
stant vigilance. 

In  the  first  cabin  were  more  than  two  hundred 
souls  —  young  and  old,  maids  and  matrons,  young 


128   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

and  middle-aged  men,  and  a  few  beyond  the  allotted 
three  score  years  and  ten. 

Mile.  Carenta,  a  member  of  a  troupe  of  grand 
opera  singers,  whom  many  had  heard  during  the 
company's  engagement  in  New  York,  arose  from 
the  piano  amid  cries  of  "  bravo,"  for  her  superb 
vocalism.  She  had  sung  Gounod's  Ave  Maria. 

"  How  sweetly  she  sang,"  said  Alice,  as  she 
touched  her  husband's  arm  to  more  fully  draw  his 
attention  from  the  beautiful  vocalist.  "  Don't  you 
think  so,  Quincy  ?  " 

"  Divine,"  was  the  reply.  "  One  can  almost 
fancy  the  doors  of  Heaven  are  open." 

The  cabin  was  warm  —  in  reality,  hot,  —  but 
Alice  shuddered  as  she  had  when  chilled  by  the 
mist  and  cold.  She  caught  quickly  at  her  hus- 
band's arm. 

"  I  wish  we  were  safe  at  Fernborough  Hall  with 
Aunt  Ella." 

'"  And  so  do  I,  my  dear,  but  the  walking  is  poor, 
and  we  must  put  up  with  our  present  method  of 
locomotion  for  a  few  days  longer.  Think  of  the 
good  times  we  have  had  and  those  in  store  for 
us." 

Alice  reassured  by  the  words  and  the  accompany- 
ing pressure  of  Quincy's  hand  exclaimed :  "  How 
delightful  it  was  in  the  country,  and  how  I  enjoyed 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        129 

our  visits.  I  shall  always  love  Mason's  Corner  as 
it  was  called  when  —  " 

"  I  met  my  fate,"  her  husband  added.  "  My  line 
fell  in  a  pleasant  place  —  " 

"  Don't  call  me  a  fish,"  said  his  wife,  as  she 
smiled  half  reprovingly. 

"  Well,  we're  on  the  water;  if  we  were  in  it,  we 
all  might  wish  to  be  fish  —  or  rather  whales." 

The  next  moment  all  was  confusion.  Faces  that 
were  white  became  red  —  those  that  were  red 
turned  white  —  even  through  the  colour  that  art 
had  given  to  niggardly  nature.  Fully  half  the  occu- 
pants of  the  saloon  were  thrown  violently  to  the 
floor  in  a  promiscuous  heap.  Others  saved  them- 
selves from  falling  by  grasping  frantically  at  the 
nearest  object.  Many  of  the  lights  went  out. 
Some  of  the  women  swooned,  while  men  who  had 
deemed  themselves  brave  shook  like  palsied 
creatures. 

A  man  half  ran,  half  fell,  down  the  stairway  that 
led  into  the  saloon  and  stood  before  the  affrighted 
passengers.  No  tongue  could  form  a  question,  but 
each  eager  face  asked, 

"  What  is  it?    What  has  happened?  " 

His  voice  came,  thin  and  husky,  "  We've  been 
struck  by  another  ship  in  the  fog!  " 

At  sea,  at  night,  and  that  a  night  of  winter  chill 


130    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

—  and  the  fog !  Such  the  thought.  The  fact  —  ten 
thousand  tons  of  steel  and  wood,  the  product  of 
man's  industry,  fashioned  by  his  brain,  and  blood, 
and  bone,  crushed  and  useless,  and  half  a  thousand 
human  beings  —  looking  forward  to  years  of  hap- 
piness—  doomed  to  a  terrific  struggle  with  the 
elements.  Strong,  courageous,  creative  man  — 
now  a  weak,  fear-stricken,  helpless  creature! 

"  To  the  boats! "  came  the  cry  from  above,  and 
it  was  echoed  by  hundreds  of  voices.  In  those 
three  words  were  a  gleam  of  hope :  they  opened  a 
path,  but  through  what  and  to  what  would  it  lead  ? 
The  other  ship,  a  tramp  steamer,  which  had  collided 
with  the  Altonia  was  already  sinking,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  went  down,  bow  foremost,  only  a  few  of 
the  crew  having  escaped  in  their  own  boats. 

Quincy  had  been  an  athlete  in  his  college  days. 
In  time  of  danger,  whether  the  man  be  ignorant 
or  educated,  one  feeling  —  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation —  is  paramount.  Alice  and  Florence 
had  stood  mute,  helpless.  Quincy  put  an  arm  about 
each  and  sprang  to  the  narrow  doorway.  It  was 
blocked  by  two  stout  men  who  fought  frantically  to 
gain  precedence. 

Quincy  placed  his  wife  in  front  of  him,  and,  with 
the  hand  thus  temporarily  freed,  he  grasped  one  of 
the  men  by  the  collar  and  threw  him  back  into  the 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        131 

saloon  where  he  was  trampled  upon  by  the  frenzied 
passengers. 

Regardless  of  the  consequence  of  his  act,  Quincy 
mounted  the  stairs  quickly  and  gained  the  deck. 
The  boats  were  being  filled  rapidly.  He  placed  his 
wife  and  sister  in  one  of  them. 

Alice  cried,  "  Come,  Quincy,  there  is  room  here." 

"  No,  Alice,  not  yet.    The  women  must  go  first." 

"  I  will  not  go  without  you." 

"  Yes,  you  will,  Alice  —  and  you  know  why." 

The  mighty  craft  was  filling  rapidly.  Captain 
Haskins  feared  that  like  the  tramp  steamer  it  would 
founder  before  the  passengers  could  get  into  the 
boats  —  their  frail  hope  for  safety.  For  himself,  he 
asked  no  place.  He  had  the  spirit  of  the  soldier 
who  expires  beside  his  dying  horse,  looking  fondly 
at  the  animal  that  has  borne  him  so  many  times  in 
safety,  and  now  gives  up  his  life  with  his  master's. 

"  For  God's  sake,  come,  Quincy !  "  cried  Alice. 
"  For  our  sake !  "  and  Florence  added  her  entrea- 
ties. 

Quincy  turned  and  saw  a  woman  with  a  child  by 
her  side.  She  had  made  her  way  from  the  steerage. 
She  was  being  deported,  for  she  suffered  from 
trachoma.  She  had  been  refused  permission  to 
land  and  join  her  husband  who  had  stood  outside 
the  "  pen  "  and  gazed  at  her  and  the  child.  Quincy 


132   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

placed  the  woman  in  the  boat  beside  his  wife  and 
put  the  child  in  its  mother's  arms. 

"  Lower  away !  "  came  a  shrill  cry. 

"  Oh,  Quincy,  must  we  part  thus  ?  " 

Captain  Haskins  grasped  Quincy  by  the  arm. 

"  Get  into  the  boat,  Mr.  Sawyer." 

Quincy  saw  that  the  boat,  filled  with  women,  was 
already  over-loaded. 

He  turned  to  the  Captain  and  said :  "  There  is 
more  room  here  with  you." 

Nature's  ways  are  mysterious  but  effective.  A 
brisk  breeze  broke  the  fog,  and  the  rays  of  the 
noonday  sun  fell  upon  a  placid  sea.  The  boat  con- 
taining Alice  and  Florence  was  picked  up  by  the 
Macedonian  of  a  rival  line  and  the  rescued  made 
comfortable.  For  hours  the  steamer  cruised  about 
rescuing  hundreds  of  the  Altonia's  passengers,  but 
some  of  the  boats  were  never  heard  from. 

Alice  and  many  others  had  hoped  that  the 
wrecked  vessel  was  still  afloat,  but  the  Altonia 
had  disappeared,  —  was  far  below  in  hundreds  of 
fathoms  of  water. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        133 


CHAPTER    XII 

FERNBOROUGH    HALL 

FERNBOROUGH  HALL,  —  not  a  hall  in  the  town 
of  Fernborough  in  the  Commonwealth  of  Massa- 
chusetts, but  a  rambling,  old-fashioned  brick  build- 
ing in  the  County  of  Sussex  in  "  Merrie  England;  " 
a  stately  home  set  in  the  middle  of  hundreds  of  acres 
of  upland,  lowland,  and  woodland.  Wings  had 
been  added  as  required,  and  a  tower  from  which, 
on  a  clear  day,  the  English  Channel  could  be  seen 
with  the  naked  eye,  while  a  field-glass  brought  into 
view  the  myriad  craft,  bound  east  and  west,  north 
and  south,  on  the  peaceful  missions  of  trade. 

There  was  no  terrace  upon  which  gaudy  peacocks 
strutted  back  and  forth,  but  in  front  of  the  Hall 
was  a  small  artificial  lake  in  which  some  trans- 
planted fish  led  the  lives  of  prisoners.  Lady  Fern- 
borough  begged  the  Baronet  to  end  their  miserable 
existence,  but,  to  him,  innovation  was  folly  and 
destruction  bordered  on  criminality. 

"  When  I  am  gone,  Ella,"  he  would  say,  "  you 


134   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

may  introduce  your  American  ideas,  for  everything 
will  be  yours.  When  the  Fernborough  name  dies, 
let  the  fish  die  too." 

The  long  search  for  his  lost  daughter  had  made 
him  misanthropic.  His  knowledge  of  her  sad 
death  had  been  accompanied,  it  is  true,  by  the 
pleasing  intelligence  that  his  daughter's  child  lived, 
but  that  grand-daughter,  though  of  his  blood  and 
British  born,  had  not  been  educated  according  to 
British  ideas.  To  be  sure,  she  was  now  a  Countess, 
but  she  had  been  transplanted  to  her  native  soil,  and 
had  not  grown  there. 

It  might  be  asked,  if  he  was  so  insular  in  his 
ideas,  why  had  he  taken  an  American  wife,  and  she 
a  widow?  He  had  been  charmed  by  her  vivacity. 
She  lifted  him  out  of  the  gloom  in  which  he  had 
lived  so  long.  If  she  had  been  tame  and  prosaic, 
she  would  have  worn  the  weeds  of  widowhood 
again  in  a  short  time.  She  made  him  comfortable; 
she  surrounded  him  with  the  brightest  people  she 
could  find;  he  was  not  allowed  to  mope  indoors, 
and  Sir  Stuart  Fernborough  and  his  sprightly 
American  wife  attended  all  the  important  social 
functions  of  the  County,  and  many  in  London,  and 
at  the  houses  of  their  friends.  And  now  a  great 
joy  was  to  come  to  Lady  Fernborough.  She  ex- 
pected visitors  from  the  United  States,  and  what 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       135 

she  considered  needful  preparations  kept  her  in  a 
flutter  of  excitement. 

"How  soon  do  you  expect  them?"  asked  Sir 
Stuart  at  breakfast. 

"  To-morrow,  or  next  day.  They  sailed  on  the 
tenth;  to-morrow  is  the  seventeenth,  but  they  may 
rest  for  a  day  in  Liverpool  — 

"  Or  stay  a  day  or  two  in  London,"  suggested 
Sir  Stuart. 

"  I  hope  not,  for  my  guests  will  be  impatient  to 
see  a  real  live  American  ex-governor.  Quincy's 
political  advancement  has  been  very  rapid." 

"  America  is  a  rapid  country,  my  dear,"  was  Sir 
Stuart's  comment. 

When  Lady  Fernborough  reached  her  boudoir, 
she  seated  herself  at  her  writing  desk  and  wrote 
rapidly  for  nearly  an  hour. 

"  I  don't  wish  too  many  guests,"  she  soliloquized 
as  she  sealed  the  last  invitation.  "  Now,  I  must 
write  to  Linda." 

"  MY  DEAR  LINDA, 

"  I  have  a  great  surprise  for  you.  You  must  for- 
give me  for  keeping  a  secret.  I  do  it  so  seldom,  I 
wished  the  experience.  I  am  like  the  penniless  suitor 
who  proposed  to  an  heiress,  who,  he  knew,  would 
reject  him,  just  to  see  how  it  would  make  him  feel 


136   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

to  lose  a  fortune.  I  think  I  saw  that  in  Punch,  but 
it  fits  my  case  exactly.  They  will  be  here,  sure,  day 
after  to-morrow.  I  mean  Quincy  and  Alice,  and, 
I  hope,  Maude.  Come  and  bring-  all  the  children. 
I  suppose  Algernon  is  in  London  helping  to  make 
laws  for  unruly  Britishers,  but  we  will  make  merry 
and  defy  the  constables.  Despite  my  marital 
patronymic,  and  my  armorial  bearings,  I  am  still, 
your  loving  aunt  ELLA." 


Alice  was  not  to  tell  the  sad  news  to  Lady  Fern- 
borough.  The  telegraph  outstrips  the  ocean  liner, 
and  a  newspaper,  with  tidings  of  the  great  calamity, 
was  in  Aunt  Ella's  hands  long  before  the  arrival 
of  the  broken-hearted  wife  and  disconsolate  sister. 
The  invitations  were  countermanded,  and  days  of 
sorrow  followed  instead  of  the  anticipated  time  of 
joyfulness. 

Alice  and  Florence  told  the  story  of  the  tragedy 
over  and  over  again  to  sympathizing  listeners. 

"  That  was  just  like  Quincy  to  give  his  place  to 
that  poor  woman  and  her  child,"  said  Aunt  Ella. 
"  Like  Bayard  he  was  without  fear  and  he  died 
without  reproach." 

Alice  would  not  abandon  hope.  She  racked  her 
brain  for  possibilities  and  probabilities.  Perhaps 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        137 

there  had  been  another  boat  in  which  her  husband 
and  the  Captain  escaped.  They  might  have  been 
discovered  and  rescued  by  some  vessel  bound  to^ 
America,  or,  perhaps,  some  faraway  foreign 
country.  He  would  let  them  know  as  soon  as  he 
reached  land. 

Aunt  Ella,  though  naturally  optimistic,  did  not, 
in  her  own  heart,  share  Alice's  hopeful  anticipa- 
tions. Perhaps  Florence's  somewhat  extravagant 
account  of  the  collision  and  the  events  which  fol- 
lowed it  led  her  to  form  the  opinion  that  her 
nephew's  escape  from  death  was  impossible. 

Hope  takes  good  root,  but  it  is  a  flower  that,  too 
often,  has  no  blossom.  A  month  passed  —  two  — 
three  —  four  —  five  —  six  —  and  then  despair 
filled  the  young  wife's  heart.  She  could  bear  up 
no  longer,  and  Dr.  Parshefield  made  frequent  visits. 

Aunt  Ella  pressed  the  fatherless  infant  to  her 
breast. 

"  What  shall  you  name  him,  Alice?  " 

"  There  can  be  but  one  name  for  him.  God  sent 
us  two  little  girls,  but  took  them  back  again.  We 
both  wished  for  a  son,  and  Heaven  has  sent  one, 
but  has  taken  the  father  from  us." 

"  And  you  will  name  him  —  " 

"  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior/ '  was  the 
answer.  "  It  is  his  birthright." 


138   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  But,"  said  Aunt  Ella,  "  they  never  add  Junior 
to  a  boy's  name  unless  his  father  is  living." 

Alice  sat  up  in  bed,  and  her  eyes  flashed  as  she 
said, 

"  My  heart  has  renewed  its  hope  with  this  young 
life.  I  believe  my  husband  still  lives,  and,  until  I 
have  conclusive  proofs  of  his  death,  our  son's  name 
will  be  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        139 


CHAPTER    XIII 

"  HORNABY    HOOK  " 

TIME,  it  is  said,  will  dull  the  deepest  sorrow. 
There  are  some  who  put  out  of  sight  everything  to 
remind  them  of  the  lost  one,  while  others  treasure 
every  memento,  and  never  tire  of  recalling  the  vir- 
tues of  the  departed. 

In  Alice's  case  the  presence  of  her  little  boy  was 
a  constant  reminder  of  her  husband.  In  Aunt  Ella 
she  found  a  willing  listener,  and  talking  of  her  past 
happy  married  life  aided  greatly  in  restoring  her 
nerve  power  and  improving  her  general  health. 

She  said  one  day,  "  Aunt  Ella,  don't  you  think 
it  better  to  face  your  troubles  bravely  than  to  fly 
away  from  them?  " 

"  I  certainly  do.  You  are  following  the  right 
course,  Alice;  the  same  as  I  did  when  Robert  died. 
Your  parting  with  Quincy  was  sad,  inexpressibly 
so,  but  imagine  my  feelings  to  awake  and  find  my 
husband  dead  in  the  bed  beside  me.  Did  I  try  to 
forget  him?  You  remember  his  rooms  in  the 


140   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Mount  Vernon  Street  house.  They  became  my 
Mecca  —  the  place  to  which  I  went  when  I  had  a 
'  blue  fit/  or  was  depressed  in  any  way.  God  has 
sent  you  a  child  to  keep  your  husband's  memory 
fresh.  I  repeat,  Alice,  you  are  doing  the  right 
thing/' 

"  I  do  it/'  said  Alice,  "  for  two  reasons.  One 
is  that  it  makes  me  happy.  The  other  is,  that  be- 
lieving that  my  husband  still  lives,  I  wish  to  bring 
up  his  son  so  that  he  will  be  proud  of  him." 

Florence,  after  awhile,  made  a  confidante  of 
Aunt  Ella  and  told  her  about  Captain  Hornaby. 
She  confessed  her  interest  in  him  and  said  that  not- 
withstanding his  crime  she  loved  him,  but  that  her 
father  would  never  forgive  him. 

"  What  part  of  England  did  he  come  from  ?  " 
asked  Aunt  Ella. 

"  He  said  from  Hornaby  —  that  the  place  was 
named  after  his  family.  Their  home  was  called 
Hornaby  Hook,  because,  as  he  said,  it  was  built 
upon  a  promontory  in  the  form  of  a  hook." 

"  What  is  his  father's  name?  " 

"  Sir  Wilfred,  and  Reginald  is  the  fourth  son/' 

"No  chance  of  his  ever  getting  the  title,"  re- 
marked Aunt  Ella. 

"  I  wonder  where  Hornaby  Hook  is/'  said 
Florence. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        141 

"  That's  easily  found  out.  Linda  has  Burke' s 
Peerage  and  I'll  write  to  her  to-day." 

Lady  Fernborough  more  than  kept  her  promise, 
for  in  her  letter  she  told  the  Countess  Florence's 
unhappy  love  story  besides  asking  for  information 
about  the  Hornaby  family. 

Linda's  reply  was  a  revelation. 

"  MY  DEAR  AUNT  ELLA, 

"  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear  that  Quincy's  sister 
has  been  so  unfortunate  in  her  love  affair,  and 
astonished  to  find  that  Captain  Hornaby  is  the 
cause  of  it.  You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that 
Algernon  is  well  acquainted  with  Sir  Wilfred  who 
is  an  old-fashioned  English  gentleman  and  the  soul 
of  honour.  He  has  met  the  Captain  and  thought 
him  a  fine  young  fellow.  Hornaby  Hook  is  on  the 
Sussex  coast  about  ten  miles  from  us.  Come  and 
see  us  and  bring  Florence  with  you.  Perhaps  there 
is  an  explanation  of  the  affair  which  the  Captain 
can  give.  He  should  not  be  condemned  without  a 
hearing.  Give  my  love  to  Alice  and  tell  her  I'm 
coming  to  see  that  baby  very  soon.  With  love,  ever 
yours,  -LINDA." 

Aunt  Ella  was  now  in  her  element.  There  was  a 
mystery  to  be  explained  and  she  held  the  key.  She 


142   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

told  Florence  where  Hornaby  Hook  was,  and  that 
the  Hornaby  family  was  a  fine  one,  and  that  Sir 
Wilfred  was  held  in  the  highest  respect  by  every- 
body, but  did  not  mention  Linda's  suggestion  of  a 
visit,  and  a  possible  explanation.  She  knew  Flor- 
ence would  not  accompany  her  if  there  was  any 
possibility  of  her  meeting  the  Captain.  It  would 
appear  as  though  she  was  running  after  him,  and 
no  American  girl,  especially  a  Sawyer,  would  do 
that. 

Sir  Stuart  was  greatly  interested  in  young 
Quincy,  and  Mrs.  Villiers,  the  housekeeper,  thought 
him  the  handsomest  and  best  baby  she  had  ever 
seen.  Thus  the  way  was  paved  for  the  first  step  in 
Aunt  Ella's  plot. 

"  Alice,  do  you  think  you  would  be  very  lone- 
some if  I  went  away  for  a  week  ?  " 

"Why  no,  Aunt  Ella.  Why  should  I  be?  I 
have  the  baby,  and  Sir  Stuart  and  Mrs.  Villiers 
are  both  goodness  itself  to  me." 

"  Florence  is  not  looking  very  well.  Don't  you 
think  a  week  at  the  seashore  would  do  her  good  ?  " 

"  I  wish  she  could  go,  poor  girl.  When  I  think 
of  her,  I  say  to  myself  that  I  have  no  right  to  be 
unhappy.  If  Quincy  is  dead,  he  died  nobly,  to 
save  others.  But  the  shame  connected  with  Cap- 
tain Hornaby  is  what  Florence  feels  so  deeply." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        143 

That  same  day  Aunt  Ella  wrote  to  Linda  that  she 
was  coming  with  Florence,  and  that  Algernon  and^ 
she  must  arrange  in  some  way  to  bring  about  that 
"  explanation." 

Algernon,  Earl  of  Sussex,  and  the  Countess 
Linda  lived  at  Ellersleigh  in  the  County  of  Sussex, 
not  many  miles  from  historic  Hastings.  To  Aunt 
Ella  and  Florence  they  extended  a  warm  and  heart- 
felt welcome,  and  Florence,  used  as  she  was  to  the 
luxuries  of  life,  could  not  but  marvel  at  the  beauty 
and  even  splendour  that  surrounded  the  Countess  — 
once  an  American  country  girl  named  Linda  Put- 
nam. 

"  I  have  sent  out  cards  for  a  dinner  party  next 
Thursday,"  said  Linda  to  Aunt  Ella.  "  There  will 
be  an  opportunity  for  that  '  explanation,'  but  you 
must  assume  the  responsibility  if  there  should  be 
a  tragic  ending." 

"  We  must  hope  for  the  best,"  replied  Aunt  Ella. 
"  I  will  gather  up  the  fragments  after  the  explo- 
sion." 

From  the  expression  on  Florence's  face,  when 
Sir  Wilfred  Hornaby  and  Captain  Reginald  Horn- 
aby  were  announced  as  guests,  the  explosion  seemed 
imminent. 

In  her  mind,  she  had  looked  forward  to  such  a 
meeting  with  a  sensation  of  delight.  Now  that  it 


144   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

had  come  her  pride  was  up  in  arms.  She  had  been 
tricked  into  coming.  The  Countess  and  Aunt  Ella 
had  arranged  this  meeting.  Perhaps  he  had  been 
told  that  she  would  be  present.  Well,  if  they  did 
meet,  he  would  have  to  do  the  talking.  She  had 
no  explanation  to  make.  If  he  had  one,  he  must 
introduce  the  subject. 

At  the  dinner  Florence  sat  next  to  Sir  Wilfred, 
but  the  Captain  was  far  removed  on  the  other  side 
of  the  long  table.  Sir  Wilfred  was  politely  atten- 
tive. Did  he  know  of  his  son's  crime?  Evidently 
not  —  but,  if  he  did,  he  had  condoned  the  offence. 
But  how  could  he  if  he  was  the  man  of  honour  that 
the  Countess  had  pictured  him  in  her  letter  to  Aunt 
Ella?  No,  the  son  had  deceived  his  father  as  he 
had  her  father.  Did  she  really  love  him?  Had 
she  forgiven  him?  If  he  had  proposed  when  Flor- 
ence was  in  that  state  of  uncertainty,  his  rejection 
would  have  been  swift  and  positive. 

When  the  dinner  was  over,  the  Captain,  appar- 
ently unconscious  of  guilt,  approached  Florence. 
He  offered  his  arm. 

"  Will  you  come  with  me,  Miss  Sawyer?  I  have 
a  very  important  question  to  ask  you." 

Should  she  go?  He  was  going  to  ask  her  a  ques- 
tion. She  had  many  to  ask  him.  This  unpleasant 


pi  OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       145 

uncertainty  must  end  —  now,  was  the  accepted 
time. 

She  took  his  arm,  and  he  made  his  way  to  the 
conservatory  —  that  haven  of  confidences,  where  so 
many  lovers  have  been  made  happy,  or  unhappy. 

"  Why  have  you  not  answered  my  letters?  "  he 
said. 

"  I  never  received  them."  Her  voice  was  cold, 
and  she  removed  her  hand  from  his  arm. 

"  I  sent  them  in  your  father's  care." 

"  That  is  probably  the  reason  why  I  did  not  get 
them." 

"  Why  should  he  refuse  to  give  them  to  you  ?  I 
borrowed  money  from  him  but  I  repaid  him  before 
I  left  America." 

He  thought  she  was  not  acquainted  with  his  per- 
fidy. She  would  undeceive  him. 

'"  Did  you  tell  him  the  truth  when  you  borrowed 
it?" 

His  face  flushed.  How  could  she  know?  But 
she  did.  He  would  be  honest  with  her. 

"  No,  I  did  not." 

"  I  knew  it.  My  sister  Maude  recovered  your 
Coat,  but  there  was  no  money  or  bills  of  exchange 
in  your  pocket  book  —  only  a  few  visiting  cards 
bearing  the  name  of  Col.  Arthur  Spencer." 


146   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

The  young  man  bowed  his  head.  He  was  guilty. 
She  would  leave  him  without  another  word.  She 
turned  to  go.  He  caught  her  hand,  which  she,  in- 
dignantly, withdrew  from  his  grasp. 

"  I  will  explain,  Miss  Sawyer."  Was  he  going 
to  tell  the  truth,  or  invent  another  story  ? 

"  Arthur  Spencer  was  the  Colonel  of  the  first 
regiment  with  which  I  was  connected.  I  do  not 
belong  to  it  now.  He  is  a  poor  man,  and  an  in- 
veterate gambler.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  two  years, 
when  we  met  in  New  York  just  before  I  went  to 
Boston.  You  are  tired,  Miss  Sawyer/' 

He  pointed  to  a  seat  beneath  some  palms,  and  led 
her,  unresistingly,  to  it. 

"  He  asked  me  to  dinner  with  him,  and  I  went. 
Then  he  suggested  a  game  of  cards  while  we 
smoked  and  I  foolishly  consented.  The  stakes,  at 
first,  were  small,  and  he  won  rapidly.  He  increased 
his  bets  and  I  was  forced,  against  my  will,  to  meet 
them.  When  we  stopped  playing,  he  had  not  only 
won  all  my  money,  but  had  my  '  I  O  U  '  for  three 
hundred  dollars.  I  had  to  borrow  money  from  him 
to  pay  my  hotel  bill  and  fare  to  Boston." 

Florence  nodded.     She  could  not  speak. 

"  I  had  letters  of  introduction  to  Boston  families 
• — among  them,  your  own.  When  that  accident 
happened—  "  she  looked  up  at  him  inquiringly  — 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        147 

"  No,  don't  think  that  of  me  —  it  was  not  inten- 
tional on  my  part  —  I  was  without  money  —  the 
Colonel  must  be  paid  —  my  allowance  was  not  due 
for  ten  days  —  I  invented  the  story  that  I  told  your 
father." 

"  It  was  a  lie !  "  Florence  choked  as  she  uttered 
the  accusing  words. 

"  Yes,  it  was  a  lie,  and  one  for  which  I  have  sin- 
cerely repented.  I  told  my  father,  and  he  forgave 
me,  but  said,  as  the  coat  was  gone,  to  let  the  matter 
drop,  that  nothing  would  be  gained  by  confessing 
to  your  father  as  he  had  been  paid,  and  had  met 
with  no  loss." 

Florence  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  No  loss !  "  she 
cried.  "How  can  you  say  that?  You  have  ac- 
knowledged that  you  are  a  gambler  and  a  liar  — - 
why  not  finish  the  story  and  confess  your  crime?'" 

"  Crime,  Florence !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Her  lips  curled 

"  You  do  not  know  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"  No,  as  God  hears  me,  I  do  not.  You  accuse 
me  —  of  what?" 

She  felt  that  the  crux  was  reached.  "  Did  you 
not  know  when  the  check  for  five  hundred  dollars 
came  back  to  my  father's  bank  that  it  had  been  raised 
to  five  thousand  dollars  ?  " 

The  Captain  reeled,  and  came  near  falling.     He 


148   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

clutched  at  the  palm  tree  which  sustained  him  until 
he  regained  his  footing. 

"  My  God !  And  you  have  thought  me  the 
thief!" 

"  What  else  could  I  think?  " 

"  I  can't  understand.  ...  I  met  Col.  Spencer 
in  Boston  —  those  birds  of  prey  always  follow 
their  victims,  and  gave  him  the  check,  receiving  two 
hundred  dollars  in  return.  He  must  have  —  and 
yet  I  cannot  believe  he  would  do  such  a  thing.  He 
is  in  London  now.  To-morrow  I  will  go  and  find 
him." 

"  But  if  he  denies  it  —  how  can  you  prove  him 
guilty  ?  " 

"  Unless  he  frees  my  name  from  such  a  charge 
—  I  will  challenge  him  —  and  kill  him !  " 

Florence  could  no  longer  act  as  accuser.  Her 
heart  plead  for  the  young  Englishman  who  had 
confessed  his  error,  but  who  so  strenuously  denied 
his  participation  in  a  crime. 

"  Miss  Sawyer,  will  you  mercifully  suspend  judg- 
ment until  my  return  from  London?  " 

She  did  not  reply  in  words,  but  gave  him  her 
hand. 

When  they  rejoined  the  company  both  Linda  and 
Aunt  Ella  noticed  Florence's  heightened  colour  and 
the  brightness  of  her  eyes. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       149 

"  He  must  have  explained,"  said  Linda,  "  when 
an  occasion  offered." 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  Aunt  Ella's  reply,  and  she 
felicitated  herself  upon  the  success  of  their  joint 
plot. 


150       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XIV 

AN   AMERICAN    HEIRESS 

FOR  some  time  after  rejoining  the  company, 
Florence  was  so  busy  with  her  thoughts  that  she 
paid  little  attention  to  what  was  going  on  about  her. 
She  was  aroused  from  her  abstraction  by  a  sharp 
voice : 

"  Don't  you  think  Captain  Hornaby  is  a  very 
handsome  young  man  ?  " 

Florence  looked  and  found  that  her  questioner 
was  Lady  Elfrida  Hastings,  the  only  sister  of  the 
Earl.  When  that  lady  had  visited  them  at  Nahant, 
she  had  considered  her  the  embodiment  of  all  the 
female  virtues.  She  recalled  her  statuesque  repose, 
and  her  aristocratic  manner  which  had  so  pleased 
her  father.  She  also  remembered  the  morning 
when  she  was  discovered  by  Maude  practising  the 
Lady  Elfrida's  poses,  and  her  sister's  inquiry  as  to 
whether  she  had  a  chill  and  wanted  the  quinine  pills. 

Feeling  the  necessity  of  saying  something,  she 
replied :  "  I  haven't  noticed  him  particularly." 

The  Lady  Elfrida,  perfect  gentlewoman  that  she 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        151 

was,  said  severely,  for  her,  "  Your  failure  to  do  so, 
certainly  was  not  due  to  lack  of  opportunity." 

So,  her  long  absence  in  his  company  had  been 
noticed.  She  was  at  a  loss  for  a  reply,  when  to  her 
great  relief  the  Earl  approached  and  asked  if  she 
would  play  a  certain  piece  which  he  had  admired 
very  much  when  in  America, 

"  What  was  its  name?  " 

"  I  can't  remember,"  said  the  Earl.  "  It  ran 
something  like  this,"  and  he  hummed  a  few  meas- 
ures. 

"Oh,"  cried  Florence,  "Old  Folks  at  Home." 
The  scene  through  which  she  had  gone  with  the 
Captain  had  awakened  deep  emotions,  and  her  voice 
was  in  the  temperamental  condition  to  give  a  sadly- 
weird  effect  to  the  lines  of  the  chorus.  When  she 
sang 

"  Oh,  my  heart  is  sad  and  weary  " 

the  Lady  Elfrida  turned  to  Mrs.  Ellice,  the  Rector's 
wife,  and  remarked,  "  There  was  a  rumour  that 
Captain  Hornaby  was  greatly  interested  in  Miss 
Sawyer,  but  from  something  she  told  me  to-night 
I  do  not  think  it  will  be  a  match." 

"Why,  what  did  she  say?"  asked  Mrs.  Ellice 
with  natural  feminine  curiosity  as  regards  love  af- 
fairs. 


152   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  I  hardly  feel  warranted  in  repeating  it,"  said 
the  Lady  Elfrida,  "  as  it  was  given  to  me  in  con- 
fidence." 

Later  in  the  evening  the  Lady  Elfrida  sought 
Captain  Hornaby.  "  My  dear  Captain,  don't  you 
think  Miss  Sawyer  sings  divinely?" 

The  Captain,  with  his  mind  on  Col.  Spencer  and 
the  tenfold  check,  replied,  rather  brusquely,  "I'm 
not  a  great  lover  of  negro  melodies." 

The  Lady  Elfrida  felt  sure  that  Captain  Horn- 
aby was  still  an  "  eligible,"  but  she  reflected  that 
he  was  a  fourth  son  and  dependent  upon  the  bounty 
of  his  father  and  elder  brother,  and  that  her  dowry 
must  come  from  her  brother  who,  in  her  opinion, 
had  a  very  extravagant  wife  —  but  none  of  those 
American  girls  had  any  idea  of  economy. 

The  next  morning,  Captain  Hornaby  went  to 
London  in  search  of  Colonel  Spencer.  He  visited 
his  clubs,  and,  because  it  was  necessary,  many  of 
the  gambling  places,  but  his  quest  was  fruitless. 
As  a  last  resort  he  went  to  the  War  Office  and 
learned  that  the  Colonel  had  sailed  the  day  before 
to  join  his  regiment  in  India. 

The  Captain  reported  the  failure  of  his  mission 
to  Florence. 

"  I  have  been  talking  the  matter  over  with  Aunt 
Ella.  She  advises  me  to  send  a  cable  message  to 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        153 

father  asking  what  bank  the  check  was  deposited 
in  and  by  whom." 

"  He  may  have  cashed  it  at  your  father's  bank," 
said  the  Captain. 

"  Then  Aunt  Ella  says  my  father  can  see  the 
bank  officers  and  make  sure  that  the  Colonel  got 
the  money." 

"  I  will  go  back  to  London  to-morrow  and  send 
the  message  in  your  name." 

"  The  story  deepens,"  said  the  Captain,  when  he 
returned  with  the  reply  from  the  Hon.  Nathaniel 
Adams  Sawyer.  It  read, 

"  State  National.  Deposited  five  hundred.  Re- 
vere House.  Interviewed  my  bank." 

"What  does  it  mean?"  asked  Florence.  "So 
many  words  are  omitted.  I  can't  make  sense  of  it." 

"  It  means,"  said  the  Captain,  "  that  Col.  Spencer 
is  innocent.  He  was  staying  at  the  Revere  House 
when  I  paid  him  his  three  hundred  dollars.  He 
must  have  cashed  your  father's  check  at  the  hotel, 
they  paying  him  five  hundred  dollars  only,  and 
they,  I  mean  the  hotel  proprietors,  deposited  it  in 
their  bank,  the  State  National." 

"  But  what  do  the  last  three  words  mean?  " 

"  They  mean  that  some  one  in  your  father's  bank 
raised  the  check  and  he  has  seen  the  bank  officers 
about  it." 


154   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  I'm  so  glad,"  cried  Florence.  "  You  must  come 
and  explain  it  all  to  Aunt  Ella." 

She  was  greatly  pleased  to  learn  that  Captain 
Hornaby  was  innocent  of  any  complicity  in  the 
embezzlement,  and  said  to  Florence :  "  You  will 
get  a  letter  from  your  father  telling  you  who  the 
real  criminal  is,"  and  turnjng  to  the  Captain,  con- 
tinued, "  We  go  back  to  Fernborough  Hall  to-mor- 
row, Captain  Hornaby,  but  when  that  letter  comes 
we  will  send  for  you." 

"  I  can  bear  the  suspense  now  that  Colonel 
Spencer  and  myself  are  free  from  any  charge  of 
criminality,  but  I  greatly  regret,  Miss  Sawyer,  that 
your  father  has  met  with  such  a  heavy  loss." 

"  Don't  worry,  yet,  Captain,"  said  Aunt  Ella. 
"  Florence's  father  won't  be  out  any  money  if 
there's  any  legal  way  of  making  the  bank  bear  the 
loss." 

When  Aunt  Ella  and  Florence  returned  to  Fern- 
borough  Hall  they  told  Alice  the  wonderful  story. 

"  I  am  so  glad  for  your  sake,  Florence,  and  the 
Captain's  too.  I  think  Aunt  Ella's  suggestion  about 
sending  the  cablegram  to  your  father  was  an  ex- 
cellent one." 

The  story  was  told,  also,  to  Sir  Stuart.  He  was 
gratified  to  learn  that  two  officers  of  Her  Majesty's 
army  had  been  freed  from  the  charge  of  embez- 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        155 

zlement,  but  deplored  the  fact  that  gambling  was 
so  prevalent  among  them. 

"  I  am  an  Englishman  born  and  bred,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  think  the  law  of  primogeniture  is,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  a  bad  one.  Driving,  as  it  does,  the 
younger  sons  into  the  army,  the  navy,  the  church, 
and  the  law  may  be  beneficial,  for  the  branches  of 
our  national  defence  and  the  professions  must  be 
recruited  from  a  stratum  of  intelligent  men;  the 
lack  of  money  may  be  a  spur  to  ambition  in  many 
instances,  but  it  often  leads  to  devious  practices, 
and  —  "  he  saw  that  he  had  three  interested  listen- 
ers —  "  the  whole  system  is  contrary  to  your  coun- 
trymen's idea  that  all  men  are  created  free  and 
equal.  While  I  cannot  accept  that  doctrine  in  toto, 
I  do  believe  that  the  bestowal  of  titles  and  fortune 
upon  the  eldest  son  is  attended  with  grave  evils, 
not  only  among  our  nobility,  but  in  our  royal  suc- 
cessions. The  Almighty  does  not  follow  such  a  law 
in  endowing  his  children,  and  it  is  contrary  to  Na- 
ture's dictum  '  the  survival  of  the  fittest/  " 

Sir  Stuart  had  expressed  such  opinions  during 
his  term  in  Parliament.  The  path  of  the  political 
pioneer  is  strewn  with  temporary  defeats,  but  all 
reforms,  based  upon  truth,  are  ultimately  successful, 
or  life  would  be  a  stagnant  pool  instead  of  a  river 
of  progress. 


156   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

A  letter  from  Maude  contained  a  solution  of  the 
mystery. 

"  DEAR  AUNT  ELLA  AND  SISTER  FLO  :  —  What  a 
rumpus  there  has  been  about  that  raised  check. 
Father  was  as  dumb  as  an  oyster  about  the  affair 
until  he  had  it  all  settled,  then  he  told  ma  and  me. 

"  How  you  two  feminines  must  have  suffered  — 
one  from  hopeless  love  —  and  the  other  from  help- 
less sympathy.  But  it  is  all  over  now,  and  the 
probity  of  two,  presumably,  gallant  officers  is  vindi- 
cated, while  the  paying  teller  of  father's  bank  is 
behind  the  bars  with  a  certain  prospect  of  years 
of  manual  labour  for  bed  and  board.  Why  will 
men  be  so  foolish?  Easily  answered.  The  love 
of  gold,  not  made  in  an  honest  way,  but  by  spec- 
ulating with  other  folks'  money.  Mr.  Barr,  the 
aforesaid  teller,  is  a  nice  young  fellow  with  a  wife 
and  two  children,  but  his  life  is  wrecked.  Of  course 
she  will  get  a  divorce  and  try  to  find  a  better  man. 
We  are  all  well,  including  Mr.  Merry.  He  intended 
to  take  the  place  in  father's  office  that  Quincy  spoke 
about,  but  Harry  —  there,  I've  written  it,  so  will  let 
it  go  —  had  a  better  position  offered  him  by  Mr. 
Curtis  Carter,  one  of  Quincy's  old  friends,  and  he's 
doing  splendidly  Mr.  Carter  told  me. 

"  I  am  heartbroken  about  Quincy.    I  trust  Alice's 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        157 

hopes  may  be  realized  and  most  of  the  time  I  share 
them. 

"  How's  that  nephew  of  mine?  Send  him  over 
and  we'll  bring  him  up  a  Yankee  boy.  He's  no 
Englishman. 

"  We  are  all  well,  and  everybody  sends  love  to 
everybody.  MAUDE. 

"  P.  S.  Father  didn't  lose  anything  on  the  check. 
The  bank  paid  the  money  back  to  him." 

Aunt  Ella  kept  her  promise  to  the  Captain  and 
the  part  of  Maude's  letter  which  concerned  the  check 
was  read  to  him.  He  improved  his  opportunity  by 
asking  Florence  to  be  his  wife. 

"  My  father  was  greatly  pleased  with  you  and 
will  welcome  you  as  a  daughter." 

"  Whether  my  father  will  welcome  you  as  a  son 
is  the  question,"  said  Florence.  "  My  father  is  a 
very  wealthy  man.  I  know  the  conventionalities 
and  requirements  of  English  life,  and  although  my 
love  for  you  is  not  dependent  upon  your  having  or 
not  having  a  fortune,  I  cannot  become  a  burden  to 
you,  or  dependent  upon  your  family,  as  I  might 
become  if  my  father  refused  his  consent." 

"  You  American  girls  are  intensely  practical." 

"  Are  not  Englishmen  equally  so  when  they  pay 


158   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

court  to  American  heiresses?  I  don't  mean  you, 
of  course." 

"  My  father  and  brothers  will  allow  me  twenty- 
five  hundred  pounds  a  year,  about  twelve  thousand 
dollars  of  your  money." 

"  Could  we  live,  as  we  have  both  lived,  on  that 
income,  Reginald  ?  " 

"  To  be  honest,  Florence,  I  don't  think  we  could 
have  a  town  house,  a  place  in  the  country,  and 
entertain  much." 

"  Certainly  not,  Reginald.  If  my  father  gives 
his  consent,  I  will  be  your  wife  whenever  you  say. 
If  he  refuses,  we  must  wait." 

The  next  mail  brought  a  short  letter  for  Flor- 
ence from  her  sister. 

"  DEAR  FLO  :  —  I  didn't  want  to  put  what  I'm 
going  to  write  now  in  my  other  letter.  I  suppose 
Reggie  will  propose  now.  Don't  you  accept  him 
until  Father  is  told.  You  love  money  and  style, 
and  the  first  enables  you  to  indulge  in  the  second. 

"  I  don't  blame  Reggie  for  borrowing  if  he  was 
hard  up,  but  knew  he  could  pay.  But  most  men  are 
deceitful  creatures,  anyway.  Don't  let  Aunt  Ella 
write  to  father.  He  was  always  sore  about  her 
influence  over  Ouincy,  and  he  mustn't  think  Aunt 
Ella  made  this  match.  If  the  Countess  would  write 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        159 

him,  puffing  up  Reggie's  ancestors,  and  his  blue 
blood  and  ancestral  home,  and  a  hint  (I  hope  it  is 
so)  that  the  Hornaby's  are  a  very  wealthy  family 
and  related  (distantly  of  course)  to  royalty,  Pater 
may  say  *  yes/  and  give  you  his  blessing.  I  do,  if 
that  will  help  any.  Your  loving  sister, 

"  MAUDE." 

Florence  had  to  make  confidantes  of  Aunt  Ella 
and  Alice.  She  repeated  her  conversation  with 
Reginald  and  allowed  them  to  read  Maude's  letter. 

"  Maude  has  a  level  head,"  was  Aunt  Ella's  com- 
ment. "  I'll  go  and  have  a  talk  with  Linda.  If 
she  will  write  your  father  in  the  Captain's  behalf, 
I  think  things  will  come  out  all  right." 

Linda  was  not  only  willing  to  assure  the  Hon. 
Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer  that  Capt.  Hornaby  be- 
longed to  an  old  and  honourable  family,  but  also 
that  he  did  not  seek  his  daughter's  hand  because  her 
father  was  a  wealthy  man,  for  the  Hornaby  estate 
was  a  large  one,  and  the  rentals  sufficient  to  allow 
the  Captain  an  adequate  income,  although  there 
were  other  brothers  to  share  the  patrimony. 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  deliberated  before  answer- 
ing. Florence  had  always  been  a  dutiful  daughter 
and  the  fact  that  she  would  not  become  engaged 
without  his  consent  was  an  acknowledgment  of  his 


160   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

parental  influence  which  was  vastly  pleasing  to  his 
vanity.  He  had  been  tricked  into  accepting  Alice 
as  his  son's  wife,  and  he  knew  that  Maude,  when 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  would  be  guided 
little,  if  any,  by  his  advice.  Filial  love  and  respect 
deserved  their  reward. 

He  wrote  the  Countess  giving  his  consent  to  the 
marriage,  and,  what  was  most  important,  declared 
his  intention  of  allowing  Mrs.  Captain  Hornaby  an 
income  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars  annually,  and  a 
liberal  provision  at  his  death.  He  was  very  sorry, 
but  pressing  legal  duties  would  prevent  his  attend- 
ance at  the  wedding  if  it  took  place  in  England. 

The  Countess  insisted  upon  the  wedding  taking 
place  at  Ellersleigh.  She  had  obtained  the,  other- 
wise, obdurate  father's  consent,  and  demanded  com- 
pensation for  her  services. 

So  many  weddings  have  been  described  that  nov- 
elty in  that  line  is  impossible.  Sufficient  to  say  that 
the  Countess  fulfilled  expectations  and  more,  and 
the  event  was  the  year's  sensation  in  Sussex,  the 
echoes  of  which  reached  imperial  London,  and  far 
off  democratic  America. 

The  Lady  Elfrida  Hastings  was  present  at  the 
wedding.  She  congratulated  the  Captain  and  his 
bride,  but  took  occasion  to  say  to  the  latter,  — 

"  My  dear,  don't  sing  those  sentimental  Amer- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       161 

ican  song's  any  more.  That  night  you  looked  so 
tr'iste  I  was  afraid  the  present  delightful  affair 
would  never  become  a  reality. " 

Florence  did  not  confess  that,  on  the  evening  in 
question,  she  had  misgivings  herself. 


162       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XV 

AN   ELOPEMENT 

THE  Hon.  Nathaniel  Adams  Sawyer  sat  in  his 
library  reading  a  ponderous  legal  document.  It 
was  full  of  knotty  points  requiring  deep  thinking, 
and  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  was  breathing  deeply  and 
thinking  deeply  when  the  door  was  opened  quietly 
and  a  young  girl  looked  in.  She  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment regarding  the  reader. 

"  Father,  are  you  very  busy  ?  " 

The  man  finished  reading  the  page  before  no- 
ticing the  speaker. 

"  I  am  always  busy,  Maude,  except  when  asleep, 
and  I  sometimes  think  my  subliminal  consciousness 
is  active  then." 

Maude's  inclination  was  to  say  "  Oh,  my !  "  but 
she  repressed  the  ejaculation. 

"  I  can  give  you  a  few  minutes,  Maude,  if  the 
subject  is  an  important  one.  Come  in." 

Maude  entered,  seated  herself,  folded  her  hands 
in  her  lap  and  regarded  her  father  as  a  disobedient 
pupil  would  a  teacher. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        163 

"  Father  —  " 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  was  listening  attentively. 

"  Father  —  " 

11  Repetition  is  effective  if  not  indulged  in  to 
excess.  I  often  use  it  in  my  arguments  before 
juries." 

Maude  flushed.  She  was  particularly  sensitive 
to  sarcasm,  but  could  stand  any  amount  of  good- 
natured  raillery. 

"  Father,  I'm  going  to  be  married." 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  readjusted  his  glasses  and 
regarded  the  speaker. 

"  It  must  be  a  clandestine  attachment.  I  am  not 
aware  of  meeting  any  gentleman  who  declared  any 
desire  to  make  you  his  wife.  At  whose  house  have 
you  met  your  intended  ?  I  have  no  reason  to  suspect 
your  Aunt  Ella  owing  to  her  absence  in  Europe." 

"  I've  never  been  to  anybody's  house.  I've 
walked  with  him  on  the  Common  and  in  the  Public 
Garden." 

"  Ah,  two  parks  frequented  by  the  elite  of  the 
city." 

Maude  resented  his  last  remark.  "  Just  as  good 
people  as  I  am  go  there." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  are  no  better  than  those 
who  go  there  ?  " 

His  voice  was  stern.     Maude  saw  that  she  had 


164   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

made  a  mistake.  "  Some  of  them,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  Who  is  the  favoured  gentleman  ?  Have  I  the 
honour  of  his  acquaintance  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  you've  met  him.  It's  Harry,  I  mean 
Mr.  Merry." 

"  The  young  man  who  was  Quincy's  private  sec- 
retary. Quincy  wished  me  to  take  him  into  my 
office,  but  he  never  appeared  in  person." 

"  He's  with  Mr.  Curtis  Carter  on  Tremont 
Street.  Mr.  Carter  was  one  of  Quincy's  most  inti- 
mate friends." 

'"  And  Mr.  Merry  preferred  going  to  one  of 
Quincy's  friends,  than  to  me,  and  criminal  cases 
rather  than  civil  procedure.  Mr.  Carter  revels  in 
murder  trials.  But  why  has  this  young  man  failed 
to  consult  me  on  a  matter  so  greatly  affecting  your 
future?  Why  have  you  assumed  the  initiative? 
This  is  not  leap  year." 

Maude  was  ready  to  cry,  but  she  choked  down 
her  rising  temper. 

"  I  think  he's  afraid  to." 

"  What  has  he  done  that  he  should  fear  me?  " 

Maude  made  another  mistake.  "  He  never  bor- 
rowed any  money  of  you." 

The  Hon.  Nathaniel  disliked  any  reference  to 
that  raised  check.  "If  he  marries  you,  perhaps  he 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        165 

will  find  it  difficult  to  support  you  without  borrow- 
ing money  —  but  I  shall  not  loan  him  any." 

"  He  says  he  can  support  me  as  well  as  I  wish, 
and  I  am  going  to  marry  him." 

This  was  flat-footed  defiance,  and  the  Hon.  Na- 
thaniel grew  red  in  the  face  at  being  thus  bearded 
in  his  den. 

"  Maude,  I  am  astonished.  I  command  you  not 
to  meet  this  young  man  again  unless  in  my  presence 
or  that  of  your  mother.  When  I  meet  him,  I  shall 
have  something  to  say  to  him." 

He  resumed  the  reading  of  the  document,  and 
Maude,  knowing  that  it  was  useless  to  say  more, 
left  the  room. 

The  next  day  at  noon,  Maude  told  her  mother 
she  was  going  to  make  some  purchases  on  Winter 
Street.  As  no  objection  was  made,  Maude  felt  sure 
that  her  father  had  not  mentioned  their  conversa- 
tion to  her  mother.  She  met  Harry  and  they 
walked  down  the  "  Long  Path  "  on  the  Common, 
made  famous  by  the  genial  "  Autocrat,"  not  only 
of  one  breakfast  table,  but  of  thousands  of  others. 

"  He  will  never  consent,"  said  Maude. 

"  I  thought  so." 

"  He  was  real  mean  to  me  —  as  sarcastic  as  he 
could  be." 

"  Rich  fathers  are  usually  indignant  when  their 


166   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

daughters  wish  to  marry  poor  men.  He  can  have 
no  other  objection  to  me." 

"  Have  you  any  money  saved  up,  Harry?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  got  two  thousand  dollars  in  the  bank 
to  furnish  our  flat  with." 

"  We  shall  have  to  go  to  a  justice  of  the  peace, 
for  father  will  not  let  me  be  married  at  home.  Oh, 
if  Aunt  Ella  were  here." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"  In  England.  She's  the  wife  of  a  baronet,  and 
he  is  rich  and  so  is  Aunt  Ella." 

"  Maude,  let's  elope  and  go  to  England  for  our 
honeymoon." 

Aunt  Ella  and  Alice  had  been  to  Ketchley  to 
make  some  purchases  for  young  Quincy's  wardrobe. 
As  they  entered  the  house  a  maid  said  that  a  young 
lady  and  gentleman  were  waiting  to  see  them. 

"  Both  of  us  ?  "  queried  Aunt  Ella. 

The  maid  replied :  "  They  said  they  wished  to 
see  Lady  Fernborough  and  Mrs.  Quincy  Adams 
Sawyer." 

"  I  will  see  if  baby  is  all  right  and  join  you  in 
a  few  minutes,"  said  Alice. 

Aunt  Ella  passed  her  hat  and  wrap  to  the  maid, 
and  entered  the  drawing  room. 

"  Maude  Sawyer,  what  cloud  did  you  drop  from  ? 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        167 

Where  did  you  come  from?  Excuse  me,"  said 
Aunt  Ella  as  she  espied  Maude's  companion,  who 
had  kept  in  the  background. 

"  This  is  my  husband,  Mr.  Harry  Merry.  We're 
just  from  London.  We've  been  doing  the  town. 
What  a  big  noisy  place." 

Alice  came  in  and  the  introduction  was  repeated. 

"Well,  Maude,"  said  Aunt  Ella,  "we're  de- 
lighted to  see  you  and  your  husband,  but  your  ar- 
rival was  so  unexpected  that  you  must  pardon  my 
evidences  of  surprise." 

"  They're  very  excusable,"  said  Maude.  "  I  can 
hardly  realize,  myself,  that  we  are  here.  You  and 
Alice  are  wondering  what  brought  us,  and  you  are 
entitled  to  an  explanation.  We  just  eloped  because 
father  would  not  give  his  consent." 

The  presence  of  Mr.  Merry  made  the  situation 
an  awkward  one,  but  Aunt  Ella  was  a  woman  with 
opinions  and  was  not  afraid  to  express  them.  So 
she  said : 

"  I  suppose  your  father  will  disinherit  you.  I 
hope  that  will  not  mar  your  future  happiness." 

"  I  don't  think  it  will.  Harry  has  a  good  posi- 
tion, we've  got  some  money  in  the  bank,  and  we're 
going  to  have  a  nice  little  flat  in  Cambridge  or 
Roxbury.  I  want  to  see  my  little  nephew,  Quincy's 
boy,  and  then  we  are  going  right  back  to  London." 


168   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  Alice,  "  and  see  the  baby, 
but  Aunt  Ella  and  I  will  never  consent  to  your 
leaving  us  so  soon.  You  must  pay  us  a  long  visit." 

"  I  would,"  replied  Maude,  "  but  for  one  thing 
father  said  to  me.  We  will  stay  over  night,  for 
I  have  so  much  to  tell  both  of  you." 

"  Come  to  the  library,"  said  Aunt  Ella.  "  I  will 
introduce  your  husband  to  Sir  Stuart,  and  then  we 
will  go  to  the  nursery  where  we  can  talk  as  long 
as  we  wish." 

When  they  reached  the  nursery,  Maude's  first 
wish  was  gratified  —  she  held,  and  hugged  and 
kissed,  and  praised  her  brother's  boy.  Alice's  face 
beamed  with  delight. 

"  Now,  Maude,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Ella,  "  why 
this  runaway  marriage?  Tell  us  all  about  it." 

Maude  laughed.  "  It's  so  funny.  I  told  father 
I  was  going  to  marry  Mr.  Merry,  and  he  about 
the  same  as  said  I  shouldn't.  He  told  me  not  to 
meet  him  again  unless  in  his  presence  or  mother's." 

"That  was  reasonable.  Why  did  you  object?" 
asked  Aunt  Ella. 

"  It  wouldn't  have  done  any  good.  He's  op- 
posed to  Harry  because  he  isn't  rich.  Was  Nathan- 
iel Adams  Sawyer  rich  when  he  married  your  sister, 
Aunt  Ella?" 

"  I  should  say  not.     They  began  housekeeping 


OF   QUINGY   ADAMS   SAWYER       169 

in  three  rooms,  but  my  brother-in-law  is  a  bora 
money-maker." 

"  We're  going  to  have  five  rooms,  and  I  think 
Harry  has  it  in  him  to  make  money  —  at  any  rate 
I'm  going  to  give  him  a  chance  and  help  him  all 
I  can." 

"  How  did  you  manage  to  get  away?  "  asked 
Alice.  She  remembered  that  Quincy  married  her 
without  his  father's  consent.  But  for  the  fact  that 
she  became  famous  by  writing  a  popular  book,  he 
would  never  have  welcomed  her  into  the  family. 
In  fact,  he  had  been  "  cornered  "  and  had  to  sur- 
render. So,  she  was  full  of  sympathy  for  Maude, 
for  her  own  fate  might  have  been  similar. 

41  That's  the  funny  part,"  said  Maude.  "  I  could 
get  away  easily  enough,  but  I  wanted  my  clothes 
and  many  things  that  I  prized.  I  knew  it  was 
wrong,  but  I  deceived  my  father.  I  am  sorry  for 
that,  but  I  couldn't  give  Harry  up." 

"  What  did  you  do?  "  asked  Aunt  Ella. 

"  Why,  I  told  father  if  he  wanted  to  get  me  away 
from  Harry  that  he  must  let  me  come  to  England 
and  see  Florence.  I  didn't  say  I  was  coming  to 
see  you  —  " 

"  That  wouldn't  have  appealed  to  him,"  inter- 
rupted Aunt  Ella. 

Maude  continued :    "  Then  everything  was  plain 


170   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

sailing.  He  gave  me  money  for  an  outfit,  bought 
my  ticket  and  return,  found  me  a  chaperone,  a 
brother  lawyer  and  his  wife  were  coming  over, 
and  gave  me  five  hundred  dollars  to  spend.  I  con- 
sider that  is  my  dowry,  for  I  don't  expect  any  more. 
Florence  gets  fifteen  thousand  a  year  and  I  get  five 
hundred  all  in  a  lump.  But  I  am  not  envious  of 
Florence.  She  needs  the  money,  and  I  don't." 

"  Then  your  father  does  not  know  that  you  are 
married  ?  "  said  Alice. 

"  Certainly  not.  Harry  was  on  the  same  boat, 
but  we  never  spoke  to  each  other  all  the  way  over. 
We  suspected  that  father  had  spoken  to  Mr.  Hard- 
ing or  his  wife  about  Harry,  and  so  we  were  very 
circumspect  and  gave  no  cause  for  suspicion." 

"  Well,"  said  Aunt  Ella,  "  I  will  go  with  you  to 
see  Florence,  but  Mr.  Merry  —  " 

"Please  call  him  Harry,  Aunt  Ella.  Isn't  he 
your  nephew  —  in-law  ?  " 

"  Then/'  Aunt  Ella  continued,  "  Harry  must  stay 
here.  Alice  and  I  will  think  out  some  way  of 
breaking  the  news  to  your  father.  I'm  glad  you 
told  me  the  whole  story,  for  I  think  I  see  a  way 
to  overcome  his  objections." 

The  visit  to  Mrs.  Captain  Hornaby  was  paid, 
and  Maude  Sawyer  was  obliged  to  kiss  and  be 
kissed  by  her  brotHer-in-law. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       171 

"  You  didn't  win  the  canoe  race,"  said  Maude, 
"  but  you  were  determined  to  have  that  kiss  and  so 
you  married  Florence ; "  but  her  sister  was  not 
present  when  she  made  the  remark. 

"  Where  is  your  friend,  Colonel  Spencer  ?  " 

"  In  India.  I  have  never  seen  him  since  I  gave 
him  that  check." 

"  That  paying  teller  got  twenty  years  in  prison 
for  his  penmanship,"  said  Maude.  "  Father  thought 
you  were  the  bad  man  until  Aunt  Ella  sent  the 
message  that  led  father  to  investigate  and  find  out 
who  deposited  the  check.  I  was  awful  glad  that 
you  got  out  of  it  so  nicely." 

"  So  was  I,"  said  Reginald.  "  I  hope  some  day 
I  can  help  somebody  else  out  of  a  bad  box  just  to 
show  my  gratitude." 

Maude  thought  of  her  "  bad  box,"  but  Reginald 
could  not  help  her  or  Harry. 

"  Are  you  going  to  India  ?  "  she  asked.  "  How 
is  it  that  you  are  not  with  the  army?  " 

"  I  have  sold  my  captaincy.  Florence  did  not 
wish  me  to  leave  her,  and  my  eldest  brother  de- 
cided the  matter.  He  hates  farming  and  accounts. 
I  love  both,  so  I  am  in  charge  of  the  estate.  My 
brother  Paul  has  been  given  a  living  as  they  call 
it  in  the  church,  and  Geoffrey  has  entered  the  navy. 


172   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

My  brother  Wilfred  will  inherit  the  title,  so  we  are 
all  provided  for." 

Aunt  Ella  and  Alice  had  many  long  confabs  about 
the  young  couple,  and  how  to  reinstate  Maude  in 
her  father's  good  graces  when  the  truth  became 
known  to  him. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  said  Alice  one  morning  to 
Aunt  Ella.  "Yesterday  I  had  a  letter  from  Dr. 
Paul  Culver,  one  of  the  executors  of  Quincy's  will. 
He  says  his  practice  is  so  great  that  he  cannot  do 
justice  to  my  interests,  and  asks  me  to  suggest  some 
one  to  be  appointed  in  his  stead." 

"  What's  your  idea  ?  Though  perhaps  I  can 
guess,"  said  Aunt  Ella. 

"  I  am  going  to  suggest  Mr.  Merry.  I  had  many 
talks  with  him  while  you  were  away  with  Maude, 
and  I  am  deeply  impressed  in  his  favour.  .  Are  you 
surprised  ?  " 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  will  be  when  I  tell  you 
that  Florence  and  her  husband  are  going  back  with 
Maude.  Harry  will  have  to  go  too,  so  something 
must  be  done.  Now,  you  know  that  I  gave  Quincy 
an  allowance  of  five  thousand  dollars  a  year 
when  he  was  married.  I  am  going  to  give  it  to 
Harry." 

"  And  why  not  let  them  live  in  the  Mount  Vernon 
Street  house  —  until  —  "  Her  voice  broke. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        173 

"  I  know  what  you  were  going  to  say,  Alice.  It 
is  a  good  idea  —  all  furnished  and  ready  for  oc- 
cupancy. I  shall  never  see  it  again  —  and  you  may 
not  for  years  —  for  I  can't  spare  you." 

"  When  do  they  sail?  "  Alice  asked. 

"  In  about  a  week.  I'm  going  to  write  a  letter 
to  Sarah  to-night  to  pave  the  way." 

It  was  midnight  when  Aunt  Ella  completed  a 
letter  that  seemed  to  fit  the  case. 

"  MY  DEAR  SISTER  SARAH  :  —  I  write  to  let  you 
know  that  Florence  and  her  husband  will  sail  for 
America  in  about  a  week.  This  may  not  be  news 
to  you,  for  probably  Florence  has  written  you,  but 
it  will  be  news  when  I  tell  you  that  Maude  and  her 
husband,  Mr.  Merry,  will  sail  on  the  same  steamer. 
They  have  visited  Florence  and  are  now  "here  with 
me. 

"  I  presume  Nathaniel  will  be  very  angry,  and 
he  may  say  that  I  am  responsible,  as  he  did  in 
Quincy's  case.  I  did  help  Quincy  and  Alice  and 
I  am  going  to  help  Maude  and  Harry.  I  am  going 
to  allow  them  five  thousand  a  year  and  Alice  gives 
them  the  free  use  of  the  Mount  Vernon  Street 
house.  She  has  written  Nathaniel  about  Mr.  Merry 
taking  Dr.  Culver's  place  as  one  of  Quincy's  ex- 
ecutors. 


174   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Now,  if  Nathaniel  gets  very  angry  and  threat- 
ens to  disinherit  Maude,  just  ask  him,  for  me,  why 
it  is  that  all  his  children  have  been  married  away 
from  home.  Has  it  always  been  their  fault,  or  is 
his  home  discipline  in  part,  or  wholly,  the  cause? 
It  didn't  make  so  much  difference  in  Quincy's  case, 
but  here  in  England  no  girl  is  married  outside  of 
her  father's  house,  unless  it  be  in  church. 

"  Your  children  are  now  all  married,  and,  I  think, 

well  married.     Let  Nathaniel  make  the  best  of  it, 

and,  instead  of  keeping  up  a  family  warfare,  change 

his  tactics  and  become  an  indulgent,  loving  father. 

"  Your  sister, 

"  ELLA. 

"  P.  S.  Let  Nathaniel  read  this  letter.  It  will 
do  him  good." 

Aunt  Ella  read  her  letter  over  before  sealing  it. 
There  was  a  quiet  smile  on  her  face  as  she  pressed 
the  seal  upon  the  melted  wax.  Then  she  solilo- 
quized : 

"  Yes,  it  will  do  him  good  to  read  that  letter. 
He  has  no  one  else  to  boss  now  but  Sarah,  but  she 
doesn't  resist,  and  ready  acquiescence  takes  away 
the  pleasure  of  domineering.  The  boss  wishes  to 
break  stout  twigs,  not  simply  press  down  pliant  wil- 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       175 

lows."  There  came  a  sharp  rap  upon  the  door  — 
it  was  thrown  open,  and  Alice  entered. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Ella,  Quincy  is  very  sick.  He  is 
choked  up  so  he  can  hardly  breathe.  I'm  afraid 
it  is  the  croup." 

"  We  must  send  for  Dr.  Parshefield  at  once.  But 
who  can  go?  Henry  injured  his  foot  to-day  and 
cannot  walk.  Lennon,  the  butler,  cannot  ride  a 
horse,  and  Simon,  the  stable  boy,  would  be  fright- 
ened to  death  so  late  at  night." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  we  do?  "  cried  Alice. 

"  Do?  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Ella.  "  I'll  go  myself. 
It's  only  two  miles  to  Ketchley  and  I  can  ride  back 
with  the  Doctor.  I'll  get  Harry  to  help  me  harness 
the  horse.  Open  the  windows  to  give  your  boy 
plenty  of  air,  and  fan  him." 

She  took  up  the  oil  lamp  that  stood  upon  her 
writing  table.  "  This  is  whale  oil  —  a  nauseous 
smelling  compound.  Rub  his  neck  and  chest  well 
with  it." 

Alice  sought  the  nursery  and  followed  Aunt 
Ella's  directions.  She  was  sitting  by  the  crib  watch- 
ing her  child's  laboured  breathing  when  her  aunt 
returned. 

"  Harry  is  going  on  horseback.  He  knows  the 
road  to  Ketchley  and  where  the  Doctor  lives.  Give 
him  some  more  of  the  oil." 


176   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

It  was  administered  and  the  child  began  to  choke 
—  he  seemed  to  be  strangling  —  then  the  phlegm 
that  had  impeded  his  breathing  was  thrown  off, 
and  his  face  resumed  its  natural  colour.  When  the 
Doctor  arrived  an  hour  later,  he  was  sleeping 
quietly.  Aunt  Ella  told  what  they  had  done  by 
way  of  emergency  treatment. 

"  Evidently  a  very  effective  treatment/'  said  Dr. 
Parshefield.  "  I  could  not  have  done  better  my- 
self." 

"  It  was  so  good  of  you,  Harry,"  said  Alice.  "  I 
shall  never  forget  your  kindness." 

Then  she  threw  her  arms  about  Aunt  Ella's  neck. 

"  Oh,  Auntie,  if  he  had  been  taken  from  me,  I 
could  not  have  borne  it." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       177 


CHAPTER   XVI 

YOUNG   QUINCY 

IT  had  been  arranged  while  Aunt  Ella  and  Maude 
were  at  Ellersleigh  that  Florence  and  her  husband 
should  come  to  Fernborough  Hall  and  make  a  visit 
before  their  departure  for  the  United  States.  Ow- 
ing to  Harry's  presence  at  the  Hall  it  became  neces- 
sary, when  they  arrived,  to  divulge  the  well-kept 
secret  of  Maude's  unconventional  marriage. 

Aunt  Ella  managed  the  introduction  with  her 
usual  straightforwardness,  treating  it  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Florence  and  her  husband  were  naturally 
surprised,  but  both  of  them  liked  Harry  Merry. 

Had  Florence  been  married  at  home,  with  the 
usual  family  friends  and  accessories,  she  would  have 
looked  with  less  tolerance  on  Maude's  elopement. 
To  be  sure  she  had  not  eloped,  but  when  she  looked 
into  her  own  heart  she  had  to  confess  to  herself 
that  she  would  have  married  Reginald  even  if  her 
parents  had  refused  their  consent.  So,  as  the  in- 
tent makes  the  offence,  she  forgave  Maude  for  her 


178   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

escapade,  and  during  their  stay  at  the  Hall  they 
manifested  more  sisterly  regard  for  each  other  than 
they  had  ever  before  shown. 

Reginald  and  Harry  "  hitched  horses  "  at  once. 
Men  who  marry  sisters  are  united  by  a  stronger  tie 
than  the  usual  brother-in-law  bond,  and  the  Eng- 
lishman and  the  American  felicitated  themselves 
upon  their  capture  of  the  Sawyer  sisters.  They 
played  billiards  on  a  table  where  the  balls  had  not 
clicked  for  a  generation.  They  smoked  in  a  room 
which  had  been  free  from  the  odour  of  tobacco  for 
a  score  of  years.  They  rode  horseback  upon  steeds 
whose  principal  duty,  as  Harry  expressed  it,  had 
been  to  "  heat  their  'eads  horff."  They  even  fished 
in  the  miniature  lake  and  gave  their  catch  to  dogs 
who  knew  so  little  about  real  sport  that  they  thought 
the  fish  were  game.  They  took  long  walks  together 
and  knew  by  name  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
on  the  estate.  The  conservative  Englishman,  if 
alone,  would  not  have  gone  so  far,  but  the  demo- 
cratic American  took  the  lead,  and  politeness,  if 
not  inclination,  forced  his  companion  to  follow. 

They  often  passed  an  evening  with  Sir  Stuart  in 
his  library.  The  Captain  related  incidents  in  his 
military  life,  while  Harry,  who  had  been  a  great 
reader,  drew  on  both  memory  and  imagination  for 
tales  of  the  Great  West,  with  an  occasional  ghost 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       179 

story,  supported  by  irrefutable  witnesses.  The  day 
before  their  departure,  Aunt  Ella  took  Florence  to 
her  boudoir  and  told  her  what  she  had  written  to 
her  sister,  Nathaniel's  wife,  about  her  children's 
marriages. 

"  I  hope  Sarah  will  let  your  father  read  my  let- 
ter. I  said  just  what  I  thought,  and  I  shall  stand 
by  Maude  and  her  husband  come  what  may." 

"  And  so  will  I,"  cried  Florence.  "  You  helped 
Reginald  by  solving  the  mystery  of  that  check,  and 
I  will  do  all  I  can  to  help  Maude  and  Harry.  I 
think  he  is  a  fine  fellow,  and  Reggie  says  they  have 
become  like  two  brothers." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear,"  said  Aunt  Ella,  "  that  they 
are  bound  by  love  as  well  as  by  law." 

In  about  a  month  there  came  a  long  letter  from 
Maude. 

"  DEAR  AUNT  ELLA  AND  SISTER  ALICE  :  —  I 
have  so  much  to  tell  you  that  I  hardly  know  where 
to  begin.  We  had  a  fine  trip  —  no  storms  —  and 
none  of  us  missed  a  meal,  which  was  bad  for  the 
company.  But  they  made  up  their  loss  on  others 
who  ate  a  supper  on  leaving  England  and  a  break- 
fast on  Beaching  America. 

"  Mother  was  delighted  to  see  us  and  father  was 


180   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

so  nice  to  us  all  that  I  came  near  fainting.  He  is 
a  changed  man.  I  wonder  what  drug  he  has  been 
taking." 

"  Didn't  you  tell  Maude  about  your  letter  to  her 
mother  ?  "  asked  Alice. 

"  No,  I  told  Florence,  but  thought  Maude  would 
appreciate  the  change  now,  if  it  took  place,  if  she 
was  ignorant  of  what  influence  had  been  brought 
to  bear  on  her  father." 

Aunt  Ella  continued  the  reading. 

"  Harry  and  I  have  been  to  Fernborough. 
Alice's  brother  sent  us  word  that  Uncle  Isaac  Pet- 
tingill  was  dead  and  we  went  to  the  funeral.  He 
had  no  complaint.  He  was  tired  out,  so  Mrs.  Max- 
well told  us,  and  went  to  sleep.  He  left  each  of 
Mrs.  Maxwell's  boys  five  thousand  dollars,  and 
'the  same  amount  to  Quincy  Adams  Pettingill.  The 
remainder  of  his  fortune,  I  don't  know  how  much, 
is  bequeathed  to  build  a  free  hospital  in  Fernbor- 
ough. 

"  There's  another  good  man  dead  —  Deacon  Ma- 
son, —  and  his  wife  has  gone  to  live  with  her 
daughter,  Mrs.  Pettingill.  That  funny  little  man, 
Mr.  Stiles,  has  gone  there  too. 

"  I  saw  Mrs.  Hawkins,  and  she  said :    '  I  mos' 


IP       OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       181 

cried  my  eyes  out  when  I  heerd  'bout  that  collision 
at  sea,  an'  what  it  did.  I  can't  see  no  sense  in  them 
captains  bein'  so  careless  and  reckless.  Tell  Miss 
Alice  I  wish  she'd  come  home  and  bring  that  boy. 
I  want  ter  see  ef  he  looks  like  his  father.' 

"  I  came  near  forgetting  what  to  me  is  the  most 
important  part  of  my  letter.  Harry  has  been  ap- 
pointed as  Quincy's  executor  in  place  of  Dr.  Cul- 
ver, and,  this  is  the  wonderful  thing,  father  has 
induced  Harry  to  leave  Mr.  Carter's  office  and  go 
into  his  office.  He  told  Harry  that  they  were  all 
getting  old  and  they  needed  young  blood  in  the  firm 
—  but  Harry's  not  in  the  firm  yet.  No  more  this 
time  from  your  loving 

"  MAUDE  MERRY." 

"  My  letter  to  Sarah  did  do  some  good,"  said 
Aunt  Ella  triumphantly. 

"  Poor  Uncle  Ike,  I  wish  I  could  have  been  with 
him.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  see  Fernborough 
again  ?  " 

Aunt  Ella  did  not  answer  the  question  as  she 
would  have  liked  to,  and  Alice  went  to  her  room 
to  recall  those  former  happy  days  which  would 
never  come  again. 

Nearly  nine  years  had  passed  since  young  Quin- 
cy's birth,  and  Alice  was  still  at  Fernborough  Hall. 


182   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

She  could  not  leave  it  now,  for  Aunt  Ella  was  again 
a  widow.  Her  mind  was  troubled  about  her  boy. 
He  had  recurrent  attacks  of  throat  trouble,  and  was 
not  strong  as  she  wished  him  to  be. 

"  It's  the  damp,  foggy  weather,"  said  Aunt  Ella. 
"  We're  too  near  the  water,  and  this  country,  beau- 
tiful as  it  is,  is  not  like  our  bright  America." 

Dr.  Parshefield  suggested  a  trip  to  the  South  of 
France,  but  Alice  declared  that  was  impossible. 

"  Something  must  be  done  —  now  what  shall  it 
be  ? "  was  Aunt  Ella's  declaration  and  inquiry. 
Then  Alice  remembered  what  Maude  had  said  in 
one  of  her  letters  —  that  young  Quincy  should  be 
brought  up  as  an  American.  She  spoke  to  Aunt 
Ella  about  the  matter,  repeating  what  Maude  had 
written. 

"  Where  could  we  send  him?  " 

"  The  where  is  not  so  important "  Aunt  Ella  re- 
marked, "  as  the  to  whom.  Florence  and  Maude  are 
both  out  of  the  question  for  they  have  young  chil- 
dren of  their  own  who  might,  or  might  not,  take  to 
an  outsider.  Quincy's  mother  would  be  delighted 
to  have  him  for  he  is  her  son's  son,  but  Boston,  with 
its  east  winds  would  be  no  better  than  here.  Be- 
sides, his  grandfather  would  say  that  he'd  raised 
one  family  of  disobedient  children  and  he  wanted 
a  quiet  life." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       183 

The  question  remained  unsettled  that  day,  but  the 
next  morning  Aunt  Ella  burst  into  Alice's  room 
with  a  loud  cry  — 

"  Eureka !  I  have  it !  Why  didn't  we  think  of  it 
before?" 

"  You  say  you  have  it,"  said  Alice,  "  but  what  is 
it?  That  pattern  that  you  were  looking-  for?" 

"  No,  a  happy  home  for  this  youngster,"  as 
she  patted  his  curly  head  lovingly. 

"  Now,  can't  you  guess  ?  " 

Alice  shook  her  head. 

"  Well,  I  must  say,  you  are  not  a  very  thoughtful 
sister"  and  the  last  word  was  strongly  emphasized. 

"  What,  do  you  mean  —  'Zekiel  ?  "  cried  Alice. 

"  The  very  man,  and  Fernborough  is  the  place. 
You  must  write  to  your  brother  at  once." 

As  Alice  was  writing  the  thought  came  to  her, 
"  Perhaps  if  my  boy  goes  to  Fernborough,  some  day 
I  may  go  to  see  him,  and  the  old  town,  and  the 
people  there,  once  more." 

In  due  time  a  reply  came  from  'Zekiel.  It  was 
short,  but  to  the  point.  "  Huldy  will  be  delighted 
to  have  him.  Our  boy  Quincy  is  nearly  fourteen 
years  old  now  and  he'll  take  good  care  of  his  little 
cousin.  I'll  try  and  be  a  father  to  him  until  you 
come  for  him." 

The  important  question,  "  How  was  the  boy  to 


184   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

reach  America?  "  was  answered  by  one  of  those 
happy  coincidences  which  happen  often  in  books 
and  occasionally  in  real  life,  such  as  is  being  de- 
picted. The  Rev.  Mr.  Gay,  who  had  been  a  constant 
visitor  to  Uncle  Ike  during  his  last  days,  paid  a 
visit  to  Fernborough  Hall  on  his  return  from  a  trip 
to  the  Holy  Land. 

"  Heaven  must  have  sent  you,"  said  Alice,  and 
she  told  him  of  her  desire  to  have  her  boy  go  to 
Fernborough. 

Mr.  Gay  consented  to  take  charge  of  young 
Quincy.  In  a  few  days  the  parting  came.  The 
mother's  heart  was  sorely  tried.  But  mother-love 
is  unselfish,  and  Alice's  only  consolation  came  from 
the  conviction  that  her  temporary  loss  was  for  her 
son's  permanent  good. 

Her  nights  were  sleepless,  filled  with  thoughts 
of  accidents,  and  storms  and  collisions  at  sea,  until 
a  welcome  letter  dispelled  her  imaginings,  for  it 
brought  the  intelligence  that  young  Quincy  was 
safe  with  his  father's  friends. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       185 


CHAPTER    XVII 
HIS  FATHER'S  FRIENDS 

IT  is  the  good  fortune  of  some  fatherless  or 
motherless  children  to  be  adopted  into  good  families 
where  the  natural  love  and  care  that  have  been  de- 
nied them  are  supplied,  as  it  were,  by  proxy.  With 
young  Quincy  it  was  so,  only  much  more  so.  It  fell 
to  his  lot  to  be  adopted  by  an  entire  town.  Its  resi- 
dents had  been,  with  few  exceptions,  his  father's 
friends.  The  sad  story  of  his  father's  loss  at  sea 
was  known  to  all,  and  the  town's  heart  warmed 
towards  him;  the  town's  arms  were  open  to  em- 
brace him,  and  care  for  him. 

To  his  Aunt  Huldah  Pettingill  he  seemed 
as  though  sent  from  another  world.  He  was  her 
husband's  nephew,  and  hers  —  but  there  was  a 
closer  tie  acknowledged  within  her  own  heart,  and 
kept  there  as  a  precious  secret.  He  was  Quincy 
Adams  Sawyer's  son  —  the  son  of  the  man  who  had 
taught  her  what  love  was.  It  had  been  a  bitter 
lesson,  for  when  her  heart  was  awakened,  it  was 


186   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

but  to  find  that  the  one  who  had  played  upon  its 
sensitive  strings  did  not  love  her,  and  that  her  duty 
was  to  another  who  did  love  her.  She  had  been 
a  true  and  loving  wife  with  no  unsatisfied  heart- 
longings,  but  — 

"  You  may  break,  you  may  shatter  the  vase,  if  you  will, 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still." 

So  Huldah  Mason  still  kept  within  a  secret  cor- 
ner of  her  heart  a  fond  remembrance  of  happy  days 
gone  by.  And  now  Quincy's  son  was  one  of  her 
family;  she  could  be  a  mother  to  him  and  no  one 
would  have  a  right  to  question  her  manifestations 
of  affection.  It  is  often  that  the  human  heart  thus 
finds  solace  for  past  sad  experiences  or  suffering. 

It  was  only  natural  that  Huldah,  after  her  fath- 
er's death,  should  take  her  mother  to  her  own  home. 
The  old  Deacon  had  acquired  enough  of  this  world's 
goods  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  hard  labour  during 
the  last  years  of  his  life.  Good  books  had  been  his 
constant  companions,  and  an  old-fashioned  cane- 
bottomed  rocking  chair  his  favourite  seat  upon  the 
piazza  or  by  the  kitchen  fire.  Abner  Stiles  had 
done  the  necessary  farm  work  and  the  household 
chores.  When  the  Deacon  passed  away,  the  town 
lost  one  of  its  broadest-mintieti,  most  honest,  most 
helpful  citizens. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       187 

Mrs.  Mason,  still  hale  and  hearty,  assisted  her 
daughter  in  her  household  duties,  but  allowed  Ab- 
ner  to  put  up  the  clothes  line  and  take  it  in. 

"  And  this  is  his  son,  and  his  poor  father  — •  " 
The  Deacon's  good  wife  could  say  no  more,  but 
clasped  little  Quincy  close  to  her  motherly  breast. 

"  You  told  me  how  it  happened,  Huldy,  and  I  told 
father,  but  it  don't  seem  real  even  now.  His  father 
was  such  a  fine  man." 

She  stopped,  for  her  daughter  had  turned  her 
head  away,  and  her  mother  knew  that  it  was  to 
brush  away  some  tears  that  could  not  be  kept  back. 

To  'Zekiel  Pettingill,  the  boy  was  Alice's  child. 
His  only  sister  had  been  the  apple  of  his  eye,  and 
his  great,  honest  heart  welcomed  the  boy  as  if  he 
were  his  own. 

His  own  son,  Quincy  Adams  Pettingill,  was  in 
his  fourteenth  year  and  upon  him  devolved  the  out- 
door education  of  his  young  cousin.  In  this  pleas- 
ant task  he  was  aided  by  his  sister  Sophie  who  was 
a  year  younger  than  the  newcomer. 

There  was  a  scene  of  wild  excitement  when  young1 
Quincy  paid  his  first  visit  to  the  old  Pettingill  place 
where  his  mother  was  born.  It  was  still  the  home 
of  Hiram  Maxwell  and  his  wife,  formerly  Mandy 
Skinner.  The  two  boys,  Abraham  Mason  Maxwell 
and  Obadiah  Strout  Maxwell  had  been  told  often 


188   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

the  story  of  Mr.  Sawyer's  visit  to  Eastborough,  and 
how  he  boarded  in  that  house,  and  little  Mandy 
was  glad  to  see  "  Kirwinzee." 

The  old  dog,  Swiss,  had,  with  difficulty,  been 
dragged  from  the  grave  of  his  former  master, 
Uncle  Ike,  but  no  force,  or  persuasion,  could  induce 
him  to  leave  the  old  house.  Probably  the  name 
"  Quincy "  had  a  familiar  sound  and  he  wagged 
his  tail  slowly  as  an  evidence  of  recognition  and 
welcome. 

The  most  explosive  greeting  came  from  Mrs. 
Crowley. 

"  An'  it's  the  foine  young  man  he  is,  the  picter 
of  his  feyther."  She  would  have  taken  him  in  her 
arms  and  hugged  him  but  for  the  presence  of  others, 
but,  afterwards,  when  alone  with  him  she  patted 
his  curly  head  and  told  him  that  he  would  have  to 
be  a  fine  man  to  be  as  good  as  his  father.  Every- 
where he  went  his  father  was  talked  about  and 
praised,  and  his  mother  had  taught  him  to  love  his 
father's  memory.  Thus  early  the  ambition  to  be 
like  his  father  was  instilled  in  the  boy's  mind.  Con- 
fident as  Alice  was  that  her  husband  was  still  living, 
Aunt  Ella  had  protested  effectually  against  her 
implanting  any  such  hope  in  the  child's  mind,  and 
he  had  been  brought  up  with  the  belief  that  his 
father  had  died  before  he  was  born.  There  was 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       189 

one  place  where  his  father's  praises  were  faint,  and 
that  was  at  the  grocery  store. 

"  Ah,  my  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Obadiah  Strout, 
on  his  first  visit,  "  your  father's  money  started  this 
business,  but  I've  worked  mighty  hard  to  build  it  up 
to  what  it  is  now.  I  s'pose  one  of  these  days  you'll 
be  weighin'  sugar  and  drawin'  'lasses." 

"  I  guess  not,"  exclaimed  Hiram.  "  Rich  men's 
sons  don't  us'ally  take  to  their  father's  business." 

"  You're  right  for  once,  Hiram,"  Mr.  Strout 
acknowledged.  "  They  uzally  run  through  the 
money,  bust  the  biz'ness  and  bring  up  in  jail." 

"  Well,  this  young  fellow  won't,"  cried  Hiram, 
hotly.  "  He's  goin'  to  be  a  great  man  like  his 
father,  won't  you,  Bub  ?  " 

"  Bub"  took  a  handful  of  raisins  from  an  open 
box,  and  eyed  his  questioner  wonderingly.  --^ 

"  There's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cow  and  the 
churn,"  said  Mr.  Strout  as  he  took  a  ten  cent  cigar 
from  the  case  and  lighted  it.  Perhaps  the  sight  of 
the  son  recalled  a  scene  in  the  same  shop  many  years 
before  on  Quincy's  first  visit  to  Mason's  Corner 
when  a  box  of  cigars  had  been  the  subject  of  an 
animated  discussion  between  the  boy's  father  and 
himself,  followed  by  a  passage-at-arms  —  or,  more 
correctly  speaking  —  fists.  We  humans  are  only 
veneered  with  politeness  or  good  nature;  under- 


190   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

neath,  man's  revengeful  nature  lies  dormant  —  but 
not  dead. 

Mrs.  Hawkins  was  delighted  to  see  him.  "  Olive, 
don't  you  think  he's  the  likeness  of  his  father?  " 

Olive  agreed,  because  she  had  found  that  agree- 
ment with  her  employer's  opinions  made  life  pleas- 
ant, and  also  led  to  many  desirable  additions  to  her 
wardrobe. 

Mrs.  Hawkins  surveyed  him  again.  "  I'll  never 
forget  what  a  poor  appetite  his  father  had  when 
he  boarded  here.  He  never  came  to  his  meals 
reg'lar.  But  he  was  in  love,  head  over  heels  an' 
an  extry  dip,  —  an'  I  don't  blame  him,  for  'Zeke 
Pettingill's  sister  was  good  enough  for  any  man, 
even  if  he  did  git  to  be  guv'nor.  Have  a  cookey  ?  " 
and  Quincy's  pockets  were  filled  with  cakes  that 
contained  raisins  and  citron. 

"  Them's  seedless  raisins,  Quincy.  I  had  a 
boarder  once,  a  reg'lar  hayseed  who  came  down 
here  from  Montrose  to  work  hayin*  time,  an*  he 
asked  me  how  I  got  the  stuns  out  of  the  raisins. 
Jes'  to  fool  him,  I  said  I  bit  'em  out,  an'  do  you 
know,  that  old  fool  never  teched  another  bit  o'  cake 
while  he  stopped  here." 

Mr.  Jonas  Hawkins  took  him  out  to  see  the  hens 
and  chickens,  and  told  him  that  he  "  kalkilated  that 
mos'  on  'em  eggs  that  was  bein'  sot  on  would  hatch 


1    S  POSE  ONE  OF  THESE   DAYS  YOU  LL    BE    WEIGHIN 
SUGAR   AND    DRAWIN*    'LASSES.'  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       191 

out."  Quincy's  great  delight  was  going  with  Hi- 
ram in  the  grocery  wagon.  One  day  they  went 
over  the  same  road  from  the  Pettingill  farm  to 
Eastborough  Centre  that  his  father  had  travelled 
so  many  times. 

The  old  sign  board  "  Three  Miles  to  Mason's 
Corner  "  was  still  there,  but  how  changed  the  other 
conditions.  No  consumptive  uncle  in  the  Poor 
House,  no  philosophical  Uncle  Ike  living  in  a 
chicken  coop,  no  inquisitive  Mrs.  Putnam,  no  mys- 
terious Lindy,  no  battle  royal  with  the  music  teacher, 
no  town  meeting  to  engineer,  no  grocery  store  to 
buy,  no  Deacon's  daughter  to  go  driving  with,  no 
singing  school,  no  surprise  party,  no  blind  girl  to 
comfort  and  aid  —  and  finally  marry. 

There  were  none  of  the  incidents  that  had  made 
his  father's  life  at  Mason's  Corner  so  exciting  and 
interesting.  Now,  there  was  only  a  little  boy  riding 
in  a  red  wagon  with  yellow  wheels,  inhaling  the 
pure  air  and  sweetness  of  the  wild  flowers,  listening 
to  the  songs  of  birds,  and  wishing  that  Uncle 
Hiram  would  make  the  horse  go  faster. 

It  is  safe  to  leave  him  with  his  father's  friends, 
for  surely  his  lines  had  fallen  in  a  pleasant  place. 


192       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

AN    OLD    STRIFE    RENEWED 

IT  was  February  and  the  air  was  stinging  cold. 
It  was  one  of  those  nights  such  as  Lowell  wrote 
about  in  "  The  Courtin'." 

"  God  makes  sech  nights,  all  white  an'  still 
Fur'z  you  can  look  or  listen, 
Moonshine  an'  snow  on  field  an'  hill, 
All  silence  an'  all  glisten." 

In  the  store  of  the  Strout  and  Maxwell  Company 
quite  a  number  of  the  town's  people  were  gathered 
about  the  big  air-tight  stove  which  was  kept  stuffed 
full  of  wood  by  willing  hands  and  from  which  came 
great  waves  of  almost  scorching  heat. 

Such  congregations  of  villagers  are  often  said 
to  be  composed  of  loafers  and  loungers,  but  it  was 
not  so  at  Fernborough.  The  men  who  represented 
the  brains  and  marrow  of  the  town  met  there.  It 
was  the  home  of  the  town  debating  society  and  sup- 
plied a  free  forum  for  the  discussion  of  public  ques- 
tions. If  the  advanced  ideas  in  statesmanship  and 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       193 

social  economy  incubated  there  could  have  become 
the  property  of  the  nation,  our  country  would  have 
grown  wiser  and  better. 

But  for  the  intense  cold  the  company  gathered 
there  on  the  evening  in  question  would  have  been 
much  larger.  Benoni  Hill,  the  former  proprietor 
of  the  store  and  the  richest  man  in  town,  did  not 
think  his  wealth  was  any  reason  why  he  should 
hold  aloof  or  consider  himself  above  his  neighbours, 
whose  patronage  had  been  the  foundation  of  his 
fortune.  He  was  given  an  old  arm-chair  while  the 
others  sat  upon  soap-boxes  and  nail-kegs.  Cobb's 
Twins,  William  and  James,  were  there,  Emmanuel 
Howe,  the  minister's  son,  and  Bob  Wood  who  still 
sang  bass  in  the  village  church  choir. 

The  store  door  was  opened  letting  in  a  gust  of 
cold  air  which  made  all  draw  nearer  to  the  red-hot 
stove.  The  newcomer  was  Samuel  Hill,  Benoni's 
son. 

A  chorus  of  voices  cried :  "  Hello,  Sam !  "  and 
a  place  was  made  for  him  so  he  could  thaw  out  his 
almost  frozen  fingers. 

"  It's  mighty  cold,  ain't  it?  "  said  his  father. 

"  Well,  I  should  smile,"  replied  Sam.  This  ex- 
pression he  had  heard  the  last  time  he  was  in  the 
city,  and  he  derived  great  pleasure  from  its  repeti- 
tion. 


194   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  How's  Tilly?  "  asked  Bob  Wood. 

"  Able  to  be  up  and  have  her  bed  made." 

All  laughed  at  the  rejoinder.  Smiles  and  laugh- 
ter are  easily  evoked  in  a  village  grocery. 

Mr.  Obadiah  Strout  and  Mr.  Hiram  Maxwell, 
general  partners,  were  in  the  private  office,  a  small 
room  adjoining  the  post-office.  Mr.  Strout  was 
smoking  a  cigar  and  reading  a  letter  between  the 
puffs.  Hiram,  with  his  chair  tilted  back  against  the 
wall,  was  smoking  his  after-supper  pipe,  for  it  was 
after  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

"  Mr.  Maxwell,"  said  Obadiah,  laying  down  the 
letter  he  had  been  reading,  "  this  is  from  the  trus- 
tees of  the  estate  of  the  Honourable  Quincy  Adams 
Sawyer,  formerly  our  special  partner,  and  the  ex- 
Governor  of  this  Commonwealth.  I  mention  the 
fact  of  him  being  our  former  special  partner  first, 
before  I  said  anything  about  his  political  elevation, 
for  I  don't  believe,  Mr.  Maxwell,  that  he  would  ever 
have  been  Governor  if  he  hadn't  jined  in  with  us." 

Mr.  Strout  always  called  Hiram  "  Mr.  Maxwell," 
when  they  talked  over  business  affairs. 

Hiram  blew  a  cloud  from  his  pipe.  "  Wall,  I 
guess  they're  putty  well  satisfied  with  what  we've 
been  doin',  ain't  they?" 

Mr.  Strout  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  self- 
satisfied  look  on  his  face. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       195 

"  Wall,  they  must  be  a  pretty  near  set  if  they 
expect  more'n  twelve  per  cent,  on  the  capital.  No, 
they're  all  right,  'though  one  of  'em,  that  Mr. 
Merry,  is  mighty  inquisitive  'bout  small  things. 
Marryin'  inter  the  Sawyer  family  'counts  for  it, 
I  s'pose." 

Hiram  was  used  to  hearing  covert  slurs  and  open 
flings  at  the  Sawyer  family,  but  had  found  replies 
only  provocative  of  attacks  upon  himself,  so  he  lis- 
tened in  silence.  Mr.  Sprout  took  up  the  letter. 
"  I  wrote  'em  'bout  startin'  that  new  branch  over 
to  Westvale,  and  although  they  answered  in  a 
kinder  top-lofty  style  —  I  reckon  that  young  Merry 
writ  the  letter  —  I  'magine  they're  in  for  it,  horse, 
foot,  and  dragoons.  They'll  put  up  the  money. 
An'  the  question  now  is  who'll  go  over  and  take 
charge  of  it." 

Hiram  put  his  pipe  on  the  table.  "  There's  two 
folks  that  don't  want  to  go,  an'  that's  Mandy  an' 
me.  I  don't  s'pose  the  children  would  find  any 
fault,  but  they're  not  old  enough  to  vote  on  the 
question." 

Hiram  knew  that  his  partner  was  anxious  to  get 
him  out  of  the  Fernborough  store,  and  so  he  filed 
his  objections  at  once. 

"  Oh,"  said  Strout,  "  of  course  I  didn't  have  no 
sech  idee  as  askin'  you  to  go,  even  if  you  did  know 


196   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

who  was  the  best  man  for  the  job.  The  snail  thinks 
he's  travelled  a  long  ways  when  he  goes  a  foot,  an* 
some  men  are  jus'  like  him." 

Hiram  ignored  the  personal  application. 

"  Well,  bein's  you  didn't  want  me  to  go,  I  s'pose 
you've  somebody  in  mind.  Suit  yourself,  as  us'al." 

"  Well,  I've  thought  it  all  over,  an'  I  think  Billy 
Ricker's  our  man.  He'll  be  over  from  Montrose 
to-morrow  an*  I'll  talk  it  over  with  him.  We've 
got  that  Montrose  trade  so  solid  he  can  be  spared 
from  there  now.  Guess  there  ain't  any  trade  to- 
night or  Bob  would  have  called  us  in  afore  this." 

"  Ef  we  sold  cord  wood  we  might  be  doin'  some- 
thin',"  and,  laughing  in  his  old  way  at  his  own  joke, 
Hiram  started  to  follow  his  partner  into  the  store. 

"  Say,  Hiram,"  called  out  Strout  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  bring  in  them  two  chairs  —  everything's  occupied 
out  here  'cept  the  counter." 

As  the  proprietors  took  their  seats,  the  store  door 
was  opened  again,  this  time  admitting  Mr.  Abner 
Stiles.  His  teeth  were  chattering,  and  he  stamped 
his  feet  upon  the  floor,  and  beat  his  hands  against 
his  shoulders  in  old-fashioned  country  style. 

"  Moses  Williams !  "  he  cried.  "  I  kinder  think 
the  North  Pole  must  have  slid  down  an*  come  to 
stop  in  this  'ere  town.  I  say,  Strout,  if  that  organ 
of  yourn  was  pumped  to-night  you'd  have  to  play 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       197 

'  From  Greenland's  Icy  Mountains/  or  some  sech 
tune." 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Strout. 

'"  Hain't  been  nowhere.  Jes'  came  from  the  Pet- 
tingill  house.  Young  Master  Sawyer  wants  some 
brown  sugar  to  make  some  candy.  Give  me  five 
pounds." 

"So  it's  Master  Sawyer,  is  it?"  said  Strout 
as  he  weighed  the  saccharine  substance.  "  I  thought 
it  was  Mister  before  a  man  was  a  Master." 

"  I  ain't  a  talkin'  about  men  —  he's  only  a  boy, 
and  a  mighty  smart  boy  too." 

"  I'm  tired  hearing  about  him,"  said  Strout. 
"  Can't  you  give  us  something  new?" 

"  Yes,  I  kin,"  said  Abner.  "  Boys,  I've  got  some- 
thing funny  to  tell  you.  I  went  to  Cottonton  this 
afternoon  and  I'd  jest  got  back  when  they  sent  me 
for  the  sugar." 

"  What  ye  doin'  over  there  ?  "  asked  Benoni. 

Abner  scratched  his  head  then  winked  at  Ben- 
oni. 

"  I  went  to  buy  somethin'  for  an  individual  who 
shall  be  nameless  out  of  respect  —  " 

"Go  on  with  your  story,"  shouted  Strout. 
"  You'd  better  hurry  home  with  that  sugar  or  the 
'  Master  '  may  make  it  hot  for  you." 

This  remark  caused  a  laugh  at  Abner's  expense. 


198   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Jes'  8°  ahead,  Abner,"  said  Benoni,  "  we're 
all  a-waitin'." 

"  Well,  I  met  a  feller  on  the  train  and  he  buzzed 
me  all  the  way  here.  He  wanted  to  know  where 
I  lived,  an'  when  I  told  him  I  lived  in  Fernborough, 
that  used  to  be  a  part  of  Eastborough,  he  jest  piled 
me  full  of  questions.  I  told  him  all  I  knew  —  " 

"  An'  added  a  little  somethin',"  broke  in  Strout. 

"  No,  I  jest  stuck  close  to  the  truth.  He  wanted 
to  know  about  Mr.  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer.  I  told 
him  he  wras  dead,  but  he  said  he  wanted  to  know 
about  him  when  he  lived  here.  Then  I  told  him 
there  was  a  man  in  town  who  could  tell  him  more'n 
I  could  about  that,  an'  I  jest  giv'  him  your  name, 
Obadiah." 

This  sally  turned  the  laugh  on  Strout  who  was 
about  to  make  a  sharp  rejoinder,  when  the  store 
door  opened  and  a  strong  current  of  cold  air  caused 
all  to  turn. 

"  Shut  the  door!  "  cried  Bob  Wood  in  his  gruff 
voice. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  man,  as  he  com- 
plied. 

He  was  very  tall,  —  more  than  six  feet  in  height. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  shiny  black;  his  coat 
was  buttoned  tightly  and  the  collar  was  turned  up. 
The  most  noticeable  part  of  his  costume  was  a. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       199 

broad-brimmed  straw  hat.  He  wore  no  overcoat 
and  his  hands  were  ungloved. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  must  beg  pardon  for  this  intru- 
sion, but  I  used  to  live  in  these  parts  many  years 
ago,  and  I  am  here  to  inquire  whether  any  of  my 
family  are  awaiting  the  return  of  a  long-lost  rela- 
tive." 

Abner  nudged  Mr.  Strout  and  said  in  a  whisper : 
"  That's  the  feller." 

"What  might  your  name  be?"  asked  Mr.  Ben- 
oni  Hill  in  his  genial  manner. 

"  I  have  occupied  many  stations  in  life,  and 
whether  high  or  low  have  always  assumed  a  cog- 
nomen to  match  my  position." 

"  A  cog  what  ?  "  asked  Bill  Cobb  in  a  voice  so 
low  that  he  thought  only  his  brother  Jim  could 
hear;  but  his  question  reached  the  stranger's  ear. 

"  By  cognomen  I  mean  a  desirable  alias  or  a 
characteristic  appellation." 

This  explanation  gave  rise  to  a  chorus  of 
"  Oh's." 

"  Kerzactly,"  remarked  Benoni,  and  then  all 
laughed. 

"When  I  left  this  town  thirty  years  ago,  my 
name  was  Richard  Ricker.  On  returning  to  those 
paths  which  my  childish  feet  so  often  trod  —  I  have 
just  come  from  the  West  Indies  where  the  climate 


200   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

is  hotter  than  that  stove  —  it  seems  appropriate 
that  I  should  assume  my  family  name.  It  is  done. 
I  am  now  Richard  Ricker." 

Abner  nudged  Strout  again,  who  resented  it,  but 
Mr.  Stiles  remarked  in  a  whisper :  "  He's  crazy 
—  mad  as  a  March  hare." 

Mr.  Ricker  did  not  hear  his  opinion  of  his  san- 
ity. 

"  My  father's  name  was  Benjamin,  Martha  was 
my  mother,  and  I  had  a  brother  William  —  that  is, 
I  had  them  all  when  I  ran  away  to  sea  at  the  age 
of  seventeen  years,  ten  months,  and  fifteen  days. 
I  always  remember  my  exact  age  for  I  wished  to 
know  just  how  long  I  had  been  gone  when  I  got 
back." 

The  villagers  looked  at  the  stranger  with  marked 
variations  in  expression,  but  no  one  spoke  until 
Abner  remarked : 

"  I  guess  you've  struck  the  right  place.  There's 
a  young  feller  named  Billy  Ricker  that  works  for 
Mr.  Strout  here,"  and  he  pointed  to  that  gen- 
tleman. "  Billy's  father  was  named  Bill,  but 
he's  dead;  so's  Ben  and  Marthy.  I  know'd  'em 
all." 

"  I  am  glad  to  learn  that  I  have  a  nephew  in  the 
land  of  the  living.  Where  is  he?  " 

*'  He  lives  in  Montrose,  the  next  town  north  of 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       201 

us,"  said  Mr.  Strout.  "  We  have  a  branch  store 
there  an'  Billy  has  charge  of  it." 

"If  he  had  some  capital,  I  suppose  he  could  be- 
come a  partner,"  remarked  Mr.  Ricker. 

"  Not  much,"  said  Strout.  "  We  have  all  the 
money  we  need,  and  know  where  to  get  more. 
What  we  want  is  men,  an'  we  have  a  good  one  in 
Billy." 

Mr.  Ricker  removed  his  unseasonable  headgear 
and  moved  nearer  to  the  stove. 

"  I  have  heard  of  fhe  late  Mr.  Sawyer  and  was 
sorry  to  hear  of  his  early  demise."  He  looked  at 
Abner,  then  at  Mr.  Strout. 

"  Your  friend  here  has  told  me  about  his  won- 
derful exploits  —  how  he  thrashed  the  town  bully, 
and  beat  the  singing-master  at  his  own  game." 

Bob  Wood  and  Strout  glared  at  Abner. 

"  But  his  experiences,  which  I  have  been  told  have 
appeared  in  print,"  the  stranger  continued,  "  are 
trifling  compared  with  the  perils  and  adventures 
which  have  fallen  to  my  lot.  I  could  make  your 
blood  run  cold."  "  Ef  we  open  the  front  door,  I 
guess  the  weather  will  do  that,"  said  Hiram,  and 
it  was  the  general  opinion,  though  not  verbally  ex- 
pressed, that  Hiram  had  got  one  on  the  stranger. 

Mr.  Emmanuel  Howe,  the  clergyman's  son,  was 
noted  for  his  extreme  politeness.  He  had  attended 


202   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

one  term  at  a  divinity  school  before  he  met  Miss 
Dixie  SchafTer.  He  arose  from  the  nail-keg  upon 
which  he  had  been  sitting,  and  motioned  for  the 
stranger  to  take  his  place. 

As  he  accepted  the  mute  invitation,  Mr.  Ricker 
turned  to  the  company  and  said :  "  Gentlemen, 
shall  I  intrude  upon  your  time  if  I  relate  just  one  of 
my  adventures  ?  " 

"  Oh,  go  ahead/'  said  Strout.  "  It's  our  rule  to 
let  a  man  talk  until  we  get  enough,  and  then  —  " 

He  raised  his  right  foot,  suddenly. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Mr.  Ricker.  "  When  I  was 
about  twenty-two  years  old  our  vessel  was  wrecked 
and  I,  the  only  one  saved,  was  cast  ashore  on  a 
cannibal  island  —  or,  to  be  more  correct  ethnolog- 
ically,  an  island  inhabited  by  cannibals.  I  was  a 
handsome  young  fellow,  and  it  is  not  at  all  sur- 
prising that  the  Queen,  who  was  young,  unmarried, 
and,  fortunately,  very  pretty,  fell  in  love  with  me 
and  wished  to  become  my  wife. 

"  But  the  Prime  Minister,  or  Great  Panjandrum, 
as  he  was  called,  wished  his  son  to  marry  the  Queen 
and  become  King,  so  he,  and  his  minions  planned 
to  get  rid  of  me. 

"  Lola-Akwa,  that  was  the  Queen's  name,  dis- 
covered the  plot,  and  resolved  to  save  me. 

"  You  all  read  your  Bibles,  and  you  will  remem- 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       203 

her  that  in  the  olden  days  there  were  places  that 
were  called  *  Cities  of  Refuge/  On  that  island 
there  was  a  Tree  of  Refuge.  It  was  at  least  one 
hundred  feet  high  and  for  two  hundred  feet  from 
it,  in  every  direction,  not  a  tree  or  shrub  could  be 
found.  This  open  space  gave  the  pursuers  a  fine 
chance  for  an  arrow  shot  before  the  refugee  reached 
the  tree. 

"  Lola-Akwa  told  me  to  climb  to  the  top  of  that 
tree  and  stay  there  until  she  sent  word  for  me  to 
come  down. 

"  But  the  Great  Panjandrum  discovered  my  hid- 
ing place.  The  Queen  declared  that  I  was  protected 
by  all  that  was  sacred  in  their  religion,  but  the  Great 
Panjandrum  proved  by  the  cannibal  Bible  that  only 
cannibals  were  entitled  to  its  protection.  He  said 
they  would  roast  a  man,  and  if  I  would  eat  him 
and  pick  his  bones  I  might  go  free.  I  declined,  for 
I  am  rather  particular  about  my  diet. 

"  Then  the  Great  Panjandrum  seized  an  axe  and 
struck  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  Others  followed 
his  wicked  example  and  it  soon  began  to  totter. 
They  next  tied  a  rope  about  the  trunk  of  the  tree. 
The  plotters  were  sixteen  in  number  —  I  counted 
them.  They  stood  in  line,  tugging  at  the  rope. 

"  Lola-Akwa  stood  far  back  awaiting  the  terrible 
moment  of  my  death.  I  could  see  that  her  eyes 


204   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

were  filled  with  tears.  The  tree  fell,  and  I  went 
flying  through  the  air  —  to  certain  death! 

"  When  I  came  to,  I  found  myself  clasped  in 
Lola-Akwa's  arms.  '  Where  am  I  ? '  I  asked. 
'  Look/  she  said.  I  did,  and  learned  the  wonderful 
truth. 

"  The  Great  Tree  had  fallen  upon  the  Great  Pan- 
jandrum and  his  fifteem  conspirators  and  killed 
them  all." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  then  a  chorus  of 
voices  exclaimed :  "  Did  you  marry  the  Queen?  " 

The  stranger  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  forehead. 

"  No.  If  I  remember  correctly  some  one  held 
an  ace  and  took  my  Queen." 

He  rose  from  the  nail-keg. 

"  I'm  hungry.  I  would  like  some  supper  and  a 
bed  for  the  night.  To-morrow  I  will  embrace  my 
only  living  relative.  Is  there  a  boarding  house  in 
town?" 

"  Somethin'  better'n  that,"  said  Abner.  "  We've 
got  a  Hotel  —  the  Hawkins  House.  Mrs.  Haw- 
kins keeps  it.  I'm  going  along  that  way  and  I'll 
interduce  you.  She's  a  pretty  good  talker  herself," 
and  Abner  winked  with  both  eyes  as  they  went 
out. 

"  Well,"  said  Benoni,  as  the  door  closed  after 
them.  "  The  Bible  says  Ananias  was  a  pretty  good 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       205 

story  teller,  but  that  gentleman  seems  to  have  added 
some  modern  improvements. " 

"  He's  a  cussed  liar/'  said  Bob  Wood. 

"  And  if  Mrs.  Hawkins  is  smart  she'll  make  him 
pay  in  advance." 

The  door  was  thrown  open  full  width  and  two 
men  rushed  in. 

"Have  you  seen  him?"  cried  one. 

"  Seen  who?  "  asked  Strout. 

"  He's  tali  —  black  clothes  —  had  on  a  straw 
hat  —  " 

"  Who  in  thundet  is  he?  "  cried  Strout. 

"  He's  a  lunatic  —  just  escaped  from  the  asylum. 
We  tracked  him  to  this  town  —  " 

"  He's  gone  to  the  hotel/'  said  Bob  Wood.  "  You 
can  nab  him  easy  there.  I'll  show  you  the  way." 

The  men  started  on  the  run,  led  by  Bob  Wood, 
and  followed  by  all  who  had  been  enjoying  the 
hospitality  afforded  by  the  soap-boxes,  nail-kegs, 
and  the  red-hot  stove. 

"  What  beats  me,"  said  Hiram,  "  is  how  he  knew 
all  about  the  Ricker  family." 

"  Simple  enough,"  said  Strout  with  a  sneer, 
"  That  ass  Abner  told  him  the  whole  business.  He 
never  could  keep  his  mouth  shet.  That's  the  reason 
I  wouldn't  give  him  a  job  in  this  store." 

Mr.    Strout    extinguished    some    of    the    lights, 


206   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

locked  the  door,  and  resumed  his  seat  by  the 
stove. 

"  Ain't  you  going  home?  "  asked  Hiram. 

"  Not  jest  yet ;  I've  some  thinkin'  to  do.  I  don't 
take  much  stock  in  fightin'  but  I'd  like  to  punch 
Abner  Stiles'  head." 

"What's  he  been  doing?" 

"  Why,  didn't  you  hear  what  he  said  he  said  to 
that  crazy  fellow  about  Sawyer  getting  the  best  of 
me  at  my  own  game  ?  " 

"  Wall,  he  told  the  truth,  didn't  he,  Strout?  " 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Hiram  Maxwell,  I  want  you 
to  understand  that  if  we  are  to  continue  together 
as  partners  in  this  'ere  grocery  business,  there  must 
be  mutual  respect  atween  us." 

"  Wall,"  said  Hiram,  "  I  s'pose  you  mean  by  that, 
that  ef  I  ain't  what  you  consider  respec'ful  to  you, 
you'll  get  out  and  leave  me  the  business.  You  see, 
Obadiah,  it's  not  for  you  or  me  to  say  who'll  stay 
in  —  that's  for  the  trustees.  So,  I  wouldn't  lay 
down  the  law  too  fine,  Obadiah." 

"  Wall,  I  hoped,"  said  Strout,  "  that  when  that 
Sawyer  married  'Zeke  Pettingill's  sister  and  left 
this  town  that  we'd  be  able  to  have  a  little  peace 
round  here  and  run  things  our  own  way.  Course, 
I  don't  want  any  man  to  get  drowned,  but  it  wasn't 
my  fault  that  the  ship  he  was  on  ran  into  another. 


OF  v^UINCY   ADAMS   SAAVYER       207 

He  was  allus  runnin'  into  somethin'  that  didn't  con- 
cern him.  But  bein'  he's  gone,  and  no  blame  can 
be  laid  at  my  door,  I  thought  we'd  heard  the  last 
of  him,  but  since  he's  died  the  air's  fuller  of  Sawyer 
than  it  was  afore.  It  makes  me  sick  the  way  every- 
body tumbles  over  themselves  to  make  of  that  boy 
of  his'n.  I  don't  think  there's  much  to  him." 

"  He's  got  a  big  head,  an*  he's  a  mighty  bright 
little  fellow,"  said  Hiram. 

"  Wall,  then  he  resembles  his  father  in  one  re- 
spect —  he  had  a  big  head." 

"  I'm  surprised,  Obadiah,  to  hear  you  talk  the  way 
you  do.  I  ain't  forgot  that  meetin'  in  the  Town 
Hall  where  you  got  up  and  owned  up  that  he  was 
'bout  right,  and  thet  you'd  been  mean  as  dirt,  but 
he  shook  hands  with  you,  and  forgave  you  like  a 
gentleman  as  he  was,  and  I  thought  you  were  good 
friends." 

"  I'm  good  friends  with  anybody  that  keeps  out 
of  my  way,"  said  Strout.  "  But  that  Sawyer  was 
like  that  malary  that  the  boys  got  off  to  war.  It 
gets  into  your  blood  and  you  can't  get  it  out.  Why, 
he  snubbed  'Zeke  Pettingill  jest  the  same  as  he  did 
me  when  they  had  that  sleigh  ride,  and  he  didn't 
have  spunk  enough  to  hit  back.  If  'Zeke  had  jined 
in  with  me  we'd  had  him  out  o'  town  lively.  And 
then  the  way  he  butted  in  at  my  concert  and  turned 


208   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

a  high-class  musical  entertainment  inter  a  nigger 
minstrel  show  by  whistling  a  tune  was  enough  to 
make  anybody  mad  clean  through." 

"  Wall,  you  got  mad,  didn't  you  ?  "  said  Hiram. 
"  What  good  did  it  do  yer  ?  " 

Mr.  Strout's  newly  aroused  wrath  was  not  ap- 
peased. 

"  Then  again,  the  way  he  squeezed  himself  in 
at  that  surprise  party.  Since  I  married  Bessie 
Chisholm,  I've  talked  to  her  a  good  many  times 
'bout  the  way  she  danced  with  him  that  night." 

"Come  now,  Strout,  what  did  she  say?  She 
wasn't  engaged  to  you  then.  What  did  she  say? 
Now  be  honest." 

Mr.  Strout  could  not  restrain  a  grim  smile. 

"  Wall,  to  tell  the  truth,  Hiram,  she  told  me  it 
was  none  of  my  business,  an'  when  I  came  to  think 
it  over  I  didn't  believe  it  was  —  but  it  would  be 
now." 

Mr.  Strout's  vials  of  wrath  had  not  all  been 
emptied.  He  seemed  to  be  enjoying  a  rehearsal  of 
all  his  past  troubles  and  grievances. 

"  I  guess  that  if  the  folks  had  known  at  first  that 
the  Jim  Sawyer  who  died  in  the  Poor  House  was 
his  uncle,  they  wouldn't  have  considered  him  such 
great  shucks  after  all.  An'  the  way  he  tried  to  get 
Huldy  Mason  to  marry  him  and  throw  over  'Zeke 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       209 

Pettingill,  who  had  loved  her  ever  since  she  was  a 
baby,  was  a  mighty  mean  piece  of  business  in  my 
opinion." 

This  remark  gave  Hiram  an  opportunity  which 
he  was  not  slow  in  improving. 

"  I  heerd  as  how  there  was  another  feller  in  town 
who  tried  to  get  Huldy  to  marry  him  and  throw 
poor  'Zeke  over." 

Mr.  Strout  puckered  up  his  mouth  and  there  was 
a  strained  look  on  his  face  which  indicated  that  the 
shot  had  gone  home.  But  his  verbal  ammunition 
was  not  all  expended. 

"You  can  tell  me  what  you've  a  mind  to,  but 
I  know  that  he  tried  mighty  hard  to  get  Lindy  Put- 
nam to  marry  him,  an'  I  don't  imagine  he'd  have 
taken  up  with  a  blind  girl  if  he  hadn't  heard  that 
Heppy  Putnam  was  going  to  leave  her  all  her 
money.  I  had  him  looked  up  by  some  friends  of 
mine  in  the  city.  They  said  he  didn't  have  much 
himself,  but  his  father  paid  his  bills.  His  father 
jest  gave  him  to  understand  that  if  he  didn't  marry 
the  right  girl,  with  plenty  of  dough,  he  wouldn't 
get  much  from  him." 

"  Wall,  you  may  be  right  and  you  may  be  wrong, 
Obadiah.  But  when  a  man's  dead  I  don't  think 
it  does  you  any  good  to  roast  him  and  pick  his 
bones.  It's  too  much  like  those  cannibiles  that  crazy 


210   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

feller  told  us  about.  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  was 
always  a  good  friend  to  me,  and  a  better  one  to  you, 
S trout,  than  you  deserved,  judgin'  from  the  way 
you've  been  talkin'.  His  money  has  been  the  makin' 
of  both  on  us,  and  while  we  do  business  together 
I  hope  we'll  let  Mr.  Sawyer,  as  the  church  folks 
say,  rest  in  pieces." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        211 


CHAPTER   XIX 

BOYHOOD  TO    MANHOOD 

UNTIL  he  was  fourteen  years  of  age,  young 
Quincy  attended  the  public  schools  in  Fernborough 
and  Cottonton.  While  in  England  he  had  had  a 
governess  and  later  a  tutor,  so  that  when  he  reached 
America  he  was  much  farther  advanced  than  Fern- 
borough  boys  of  his  own  age.  Methods  in  the  New 
England  town  were  different,  however,  and  his 
Uncle  Ezekiel  was  satisfied  to  have  him  keep  pace 
with  the  others,  and  not  arouse  antagonism  by  ask- 
ing for  any  special  promotion. 

Ezekiel's  son  Quincy  had  decided  to  become  a 
farmer,  following  in  his  father's  footsteps.  But 
scientific  farming  was  supplanting  old  methods, 
and  he  had  taken  the  course  at  the  Agricultural 
College  and  received  his  diploma. 

Young  Quincy  wished  a  college  education.  To 
obtain  admission  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  attend 
a  preparatory  school,  and,  relying  upon  Mr.  Gay's 
description  of  its  advantages,  Andover  was  selected. 

While  at  the  Cottonton  High  School,  Quincy' s 


212   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

chum  had  been  a  boy  two  years  older  than  himself, 
named  Thomas  Chripp.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
weaver  at  Cottonton.  Like  Quincy,  he  had  been 
born  in  England,  but  his  father  had  been  drawn 
to  America  by  the  lure  of  higher  wages,  nothing 
having  been  said  to  him,  however,  about  the  in- 
creased cost  of  living. 

Thomas's  father  would  not  let  him  become  a 
back-boy  in  the  mill. 

"  I've  breathed  cotton  all  my  life,"  said  Mr. 
Chripp  to  Ezekiel,  "  and  I  think  too  much  of  my 
only  boy  to  condemn  him  to  a  life  in  a  hot  room, 
where  the  only  music  is  the  whizzing  shuttles.  No, 
my  boy  Tom  shall  breathe  God's  fresh  air  and  be- 
come a  big,  strong  man  instead  of  a  wizened-tip 
little  fellow  like  me.  Why,  would  you  believe  it, 
Mr.  Pettingill,  I  began  work  in  a  cotton  mill  when 
I  was  eight  years  old,  and  I've  lived  in  one  ever 
since  —  forty  years !  Sundays  when  I  walk  out  in 
the  fields  I  can't  get  the  din  out  of  my  ears,  and  I 
told  Susan,  my  old  wife,  the  other  day,  that  if  I 
died  before  she  did  to  have  the  lid  screwed  down 
extra  tight  so  I  could  be  sure  of  a  little  quiet." 

"  My  nephew,"  said  'Zekiel,  "  thinks  a  lot  of  your 
boy  and  wants  him  to  go  to  college  with  him." 

"  But  I  haven't  got  the  money  to  pay  his  way," 
said  Mr.  Chripp. 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       213 

"  My  nephew  has  plenty  of  money,  and  if  he's 
willing  to  help  your  boy  along  in  the  world  there's 
nobody  to  object  that  I  know  of." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Tom  Chripp  should  go 
to  the  preparatory  school  and  college  with  Quincy, 
the  latter  to  pay  the  expenses  of  both. 

"  'Twas  a  lucky  day  for  Tom  that  sent  that  Saw- 
yer boy  to  school  in  Cottonton,"  said  Mr.  Chripp 
to  his  wife. 

"  It'll  be  the  making  of  Tom/'  he  added,  and  the 
happy  mother  thought  so  too. 

When  Mr.  Strout  heard  of  it,  he  remarked  to  his 
partner  Mr.  Maxwell, 

"  More  of  the  arrogance  of  wealth.  If  I  was 
a  young  man  like  Tom  Chripp  I'd  make  my  own 
way  in  the  world." 

Hiram  swallowed  some  smoke,  coughed,  and  then 
replied :  "  Probably  he  will,  when  he  gits  his  eddi- 
kation.  Money  makes  the  mare  go  now  as  it  al- 
ways has,  Obadiah,  an'  you  an'  me  can't  stop  it." 

"  Like  father,  like  son,  I  guess,  Hiram.  His 
father  used  to  enjoy  throwing  his  money  away  an' 
the  son's  goin'  to  sail  in  the  same  boat.  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  he  came  back  to  town  some  day  and 
licked  somebody  jest  to  be  like  his  father." 

"  I  shouldn't  nuther,"  said  Hiram  as  he  began 
putting  up  an  order  for  the  Hawkins  House. 


214   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

While  Quincy  was  attending  the  public  schools, 
Mrs.  Nathaniel  Sawyer  made  two  visits  each  year 
to  Fernborough  to  learn  of  her  grandson's  progress. 
Thanksgiving  he  passed  at  his  Uncle  'ZekieFs  where 
he  had  eagerly  watched  the  growth  of  the  turkey 
that  was  destined  to  grace  the  festal  board  on  that 
day.  At  Christmas  he  went  to  Boston  and  returned 
laden  with  gifts,  many  of  which  were  immediately 
donated  to  his  cousins  and  Mandy  Maxwell's  chil- 
dren. 

Mr.  Strout's  ire  was  kindled  when  Hiram  de- 
scribed the  presents  his  children  had  received  from 
Quincy. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  I've  got  money  enough  to  buy 
my  children's  presents  myself  without  dependin'  on 
second-hand  things  that  other  folks  don't  want." 

"  So've  I,"  said  Hiram,  "  but  what  I  save  that 
way  I  puts  in  the  bank,  for  I'm  bound  to  own  the 
old  Pettingill  Place  some  day." 

"  Oh,  spend  your  money,  Hiram.  Your  rich 
friends  will  give  you  the  house  some  day."  He  was 
so  pleased  with  the  subtle  humour  of  his  last  re- 
mark that  he  tossed  a  scoop  half  full  of  coffee 
into  the  sugar  barrel,  much  to  Hiram's  amuse- 
ment. 

During  Quincy's  first  year  at  Andover  he  was 
twice  called  from  his  studies.  The  Hon.  Nathan- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       215 

iel  Adams  Sawyer  after  his  return  home  from  a 
bank  directors'  banquet  was  taken  with  an  attack 
of  acute  indigestion.  He  was  in  great  pain.  One 
of  the  most  prominent  physicians  in  the  city  was 
summoned.  He  gave  a  strong  hypodermic  injec- 
tion of  morphine  to  stop  the  pain,  but  did  nothing 
to  remove  the  cause.  The  pain  itself  was  stopped 
by  the  anodyne,  but  the  cause  of  the  pain  —  the 
indigestion  —  stopped  the  beating  of  Mr.  Sawyer's 
heart  within  an  hour. 

By  his  will,  $250,000  were  left  to  his  daughter 
Florence,  and  $100,000  to  his  daughter  Maude. 
To  compensate  for  the  $150,000  difference  in  the 
bequests,  the  Hon.  Nathaniel  Sawyer's  interest  in 
the  firm  of  Sawyer,  Crowninshield,  and  Lawrence 
was  conveyed  to  Mr.  Harry  Merry,  provided  that 
one- third  of  his  share  from  the  income  of  the  law- 
business  was  paid  to  the  trustees  of  the  estate  of 
his  grandson  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer.  The  re- 
mainder of  his  property,  both  real  and  personal, 
was  left  to  his  wife,  Sarah  Quincy  Sawyer. 

Quincy's  grandmother  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy 
her  fortune.  Maude  wished  her  to  sell  the  Beacon 
Street  house  and  come  to  Mount  Vernon  Street. 
Her  mother  wished  her  to  come  to  Beacon  Street. 
While  the  pros  and  cons  were  being  considered,  the 
old  lady  died  of  absolute  inanition.  She  had  been 


216   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

dominated  so  long  by  a  superior  will  power,  she 
had  been  so  dependent  upon  her  late  husband  in 
every  event  of  her  life,  that  without  him  she  was 
a  helpless  creature,  and  so  willing  to  drop  her 
burden,  that  she  did  not  cling  to  life  but  gave  up 
without  the  semblance  of  a  struggle.  Her  last  will 
and  testament  was  very  short,  containing  but  one 
clause,  which  gave  all  her  property  to  her  grand- 
son Quincy  Adams  Sawyer. 

When  Aunt  Ella  heard  of  her  sister's  death,  she 
said  to  Alice : 

"  They  were  not  two  distinct  beings.  Nathaniel 
was  one  and  a  half,  and  Sarah  only  a  half." 

"  That  boy  will  sure  go  to  the  devil  now,"  was 
Mr.  Strout's  comment. 

"  I  don't  think  so/'  said  Hiram.  "  He's  too  much 
like  his  father." 

"  How  do  you  know  where  his  father  has  gone?  " 
snapped  Mr.  Strout,  who  did  not  believe,  evidently, 
that  good  works  were  a  sure  passport  to  future 
bliss. 

Quincy's  vacation  after  his  first  year  at  Andover 
was  passed  at  Fernborough.  He  was  warmly  wel- 
comed and  congratulated  upon  the  great  fortune 
that  had  fallen  to  him. 

"  He's  got  a  big  head,  sure  enough/'  said  Mr. 
Strout,  "  but  I  think  he's  a  little  weak  in  the  legs. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        217 

He  won't  disgust  the  community  by  fightin'  as  his 
father  did." 

"  I  wish  he'd  thrash  Bob  Wood's  son  —  he's  too 
impudent  to  live,"  said  Mrs.  Amanda  Maxwell,  to 
whom  Mr.  Strout  had  addressed  his  remark. 

"  No  danger  o'  that,"  and  Mr.  Strout  laughed 
gleefully.  "  Young  Bob's  as  good  with  his  fists  as 
his  father  was." 

"  He  didn't  amount  to  much  when  Mr.  Sawyer 
tackled  him,"  and  with  a  scornful  laugh  Mrs.  Max- 
well flounced  out  of  the  store. 

"  Your  wife's  as  bad  as  the  rest  on  'em,  Hiram." 

"  Yes,  Obadiah ;  it  seems  to  be  whoopedemic, 
as  the  doctors  say." 

Quincy's  second  and  third  years  at  Andover 
passed  quickly  and  again  vacation  time  had  come. 

"  Let's  go  to  Femborough  as  usual,"  said  Quincy, 
and  Tom,  without  argument,  seconded  the  motion. 
This  time,  Tom  was  Quincy's  guest.  They  were 
young  men  now.  Quincy  was  seventeen  and  Tom 
nineteen,  but  the  fields  were  as  green,  the  fruit  as 
sweet,  the  vegetables  as  crisp  and  fresh,  and  their 
friends  as  glad  to  see  them  as  when  they  were  chil- 
dren. 

A  year  had  brought  some  changes.  Mrs.  Maxwell 
mourned  the  loss  of  her  son  Obadiah,  who  had  been 
gored  by  an  angry  bull  and  found  dead  in  the  West 


218   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

pasture.  For  a  wonder,  Mr.  Strout  showed  some 
sympathy,  perhaps  because  the  little  boy  was  his 
namesake. 

The  Rev.  Caleb  Howe  had  passed  away.  In  his 
place  the  church  had  called  the  Rev.  Hudson 
Quarles,  a  bachelor  of  forty,  whose  hobby  was 
fancy  fowls.  He  joined  the  Grange  and  talked  on 
"  Poultry  Raising "  and  "  A  Small  Fortune  in 
Squabs."  His  hens  were  the  heaviest  for  their  age 
in  the  community,  and  to  prove  it  he  was  always 
willing  to  "  weigh  up  "  at  the  grocery  store. 

'Mr.  Strout  called  him  a  crank  and  played  a  joke 
on  him  that  led  to  a  division  in  the  church  and  came 
near  costing  Mr.  Strout  his  position  as  organist. 

There  were  two  scales  on  the  long  grocery  coun- 
ter. Mr.  Strout  tampered  with  one  of  them  by 
affixing  two  pounds  of  lead  to  it  which  he  covered 
with  gold  paint  to  hide  the  deception. 

Bob  Wood's  hen  was  weighed  in  the  fraudulent 
scales  and  beat  Mr.  Quarles'  by  a  half  pound,  the 
clergyman's  being  really  a  pound  and  a  half  the 
heavier.  The  plot  would  have  been  a  success  but 
for  the  keen-eyed  Quincy  who  examined  the  scales 
and  discovered  the  imposition. 

Mr.  Strout  declared  it  was  all  a  joke  and  that 
he  was  going  to  own  up  when  he  got  ready  to  do 
so.  This  explanation  was  accepted  by  some  and 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       219 

scoffed  at  by  others.  Naturally,  Mr.  Strout  looked 
upon  Quincy  as  a  meddler. 

"  By  Godfrey !  "  he  exclaimed  to  Hiram,  "  either 
that  Sawyer  boy  or  me  has  got  to  leave  town." 

"  When  are  yer  goin'  ?  "  asked  Hiram,  quietly, 
but  he  got  no  reply. 

Miss  Dixie  Schaffer  retired  from  the  stage  and 
settled  down.  Her  mother-in-law,  being  an  invalid 
confined  to  her  room,  prevented  any  interference  in 
her  household  affairs,  and  she  was  free  from  sug- 
gestions as  to  what  she  should  give,  and  what  she 
shouldn't  give  her  son,  who  had  been  named  Hugh 
after  her  own  father. 

Many  new  people  had  moved  into  the  town. 
Among  the  newcomers  was  a  former  detective  on 
the  Boston  police  force  named  Horace  Dana. 
Through  an  injury  received  in  making  an  impor- 
tant arrest,  he  had  become  a  cripple,  able  to  get 
around  only  slowly  and  with  crutches.  He  was  a 
widower  with  one  daughter,  about  fifteen  years  of 
age,  named  Mary. 

The  young  lady  was  as  old  in  appearance  as  many 
girls  of  eighteen,  and  her  looks  so  belied  her  age, 
that  the  village  beaux  paid  court  to  her  at  once. 
Her  most  persistent  suitor  was  young  Bob  Wood 
who  had  just  reached  his  majority. 

'As  she  was  walking  one  day  in  the  Center  Road, 


220   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

far  from  any  dwelling,  she  met  Bob.  He  improved 
the  opportunity  by  asking  her  to  be  his  wife. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Wood,  I'm  too  young  to  marry." 

"  But  I'm  just  old  enough,"  said  Bob,  "  and  you 
suit  me  exactly." 

"  Mr.  Wood,  I'm  going*  to  tell  you  the  truth. 
I'm  not  yet  fifteen  years  old.  Father  says  I  can't 
have  a  beau  till  I'm  eighteen,  and  I'm  sure  I  don't 
want  one." 

Bob  had  learned  much  street  slang  during  his 
visits  to  Cottonton,  and  considered  its  acquisition 
a  benefit  and  its  use  an  accomplishment 

"  You've  said  it.  Now  sneeze  it,  and  dust  your 
brain." 

Mary  regarded  him  with  astonishment.  "  I 
don't  understand  such  language,  Mr.  Wood.  What 
do  you  mean  ?  I  haven't  a  cold  in  my  head." 

Bob  laughed  insolently. 

•'*  No,  but  you've  got  a  cold  heart.  What  I  meant 
by  my  French  was  that  you're  bluffing.  If  you  ain't 
eighteen,  I'm  a  primary  school  boy." 

"  Then  you  don't  believe  me!  "  Mary's  blue  eyes 
opened  to  their  fullest  extent. 

Bob  thought  those  blue  eyes  and  light  brown  hair, 
golden  in  the  sunlight,  those  rosy  cheeks,  and  pretty 
mouth  made  a  most  attractive  picture,  and,  in  his 
rough  way,  he  really  loved  her. 


OF   QUINCY    ADAMS    SAWYER       221 

"  I'm  going  home,"  said  Mary,  "  and  I  shall 
tell  my  father  you  said  I  lied  to  you." 

"  No,  you  don't,"  cried  Bob,  and  he  grasped  her 
arm  so  tightly  that  she  winced.  "  You  don't  go 
until  you  promise  me  not  to  say  anything  to  your 
father." 

"  I  won't  promise ! "  Hot  tears  filled  her 
eyes. 

"  Then  you  don't  go,"  and  Bob  tightened  his 

grip. 

The  next  moment  a  hand  clutched  his  coat  collar 
and  he  was  thrown  violently  on  his  back. 

Bob,  who  was  agile,  was  quickly  on  his  feet  again 
and  faced  his  assailant.  "  Oh,  that's  you,  Sawyer, 
is  it?  Why  do  you  interfere  with  what's  none  of 
your  business  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is,"  said  Quincy,  calmly.  "  My 
friend  and  I  —  "  He  turned,  and  at  that  moment 
Tom  emerged  from  behind  a  clump  of  bushes  at 
the  roadside. 

"  My  friend  and  I,"  Quincy  repeated,  "  were  be- 
hind those  bushes  and  overheard  your  insulting 
language  to  this  young  lady  and  your  brutal  treat- 
ment of  her." 

"  Hiding  to  see  what  you  could  hear,"  said  Bob, 
sneeringly. 

"  Not  at  all.    We  came  "cross  lots  and  were  just 


222       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

stepping  into  the  road  when  we  espied  you,  and 
retreated,  awaiting  your  departure." 

"  Very  prettily  said,  Master  Sawyer,  but  I  don't 
believe  a  word  of  it." 

"  You  called  this  young  lady  a  liar  and  she  was 
powerless  to  resent  it,  but  I'm  not.  Tom,  hold  my 
coat." 

"  Oh,  please  don't  fight,"  pleaded  Mary.  "  I'll 
never  speak  to  him  again." 

"  Say,  Quincy,"  exclaimed  Tom,  "  he's  too  heav- 
ily built  for  you.  Let  me  tackle  him." 

"  Two  to  one !  I  s'pose  that's  what  you  city 
snobs  call  fair  play." 

Bob  removed  his  coat  and  threw  it  on  the 
ground.  "If  you'll  come  one  at  a  time,  I'll  lick 
you  both." 

Quincy  addressed  Mary.  "  Don't  be  distressed. 
You  may  pardon  his  offence  to  you  if  you  choose, 
but  I'm  going  to  settle  my  personal  account 
with  him.  He  doubted  my  word.  I'm  going  to 
make  him  believe  what  I  said,  and  by  that  time 
he'll  be  ready  to  apologize  to  you." 

Bob  squared  off,  but  Quincy  did  not  raise  his 
hands. 

"Are  you  'fraid?  Don't  you  know  how  to  put 
up  your  dukes?  " 

"  I'm  not  a  boxer,"  said  Quincy,  "  if  that's  what 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       223 

you  mean.  I'll  look  out  for  myself,  rough  and 
tumble." 

Bob  rushed  forward  and  aimed  a  blow  at  Quin- 
cy's  face.  It  fell  short,  for  Quincy  retreated ;  then, 
springing  forward,  he  gave  Bob  a  violent  kick  on 
his  left  knee.  As  his  opponent  threw  his  right  leg 
over  to  keep  his  balance  he  was  obliged  to  lean 
forward ;  Quincy  caught  him  by  the  collar  and  Bob 
went  sprawling  upon  the  ground.  He  leaped  to  his 
feet,  red  with  rage. 

"  Why  don't  you  fight  fair?  "  he  bellowed. 

"  You  fight  your  way  and  I'll  fight  mine,"  was 
Quincy's  reply. 

"  All  right,"  cried  Bob,  "  I'll  try  your  way." 

He  sprang  upon  Quincy  and  grabbed  him  by  the 
collar  with  both  hands  and  pulled  him  forward. 
This  just  suited  Quincy,  for,  catching  Bob  around 
the  legs,  he  lifted  him  high  in  the  air  and  threw 
him  backwards  over  his  head.  Bob's  face  was  cut 
and  bleeding,  when  he  arose. 

"  Time's  up,"  cried  Tom.  "  Three  straight  falls 
settle  it." 

"  The  first  one  don't  count,"  growled  Bob.  "  He 
sneaked  in  on  me  and  I  had  no  show." 

"  He's  right,  Tom,"  said  Quincy.  "  We'll  have 
one  more  after  this  if  he  wants  it." 

This  time  Bob  profited  by  having  observed  his 


224   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

antagonist's  tactics.  He  caught  Quincy  around  the 
body  and  tried  to  crush  him  with  his  brawny,  mus- 
cular arms. 

Tom  gave  a  cry  of  alarm  and  came  close  to  the 
wrestlers. 

"  Keep  back,  Tom/'  cried  Quincy.  As  he  spoke 
he  fell  backwards,  carrying  Bob  with  him,  who 
gave  a  yell  of  exultation  as  Quincy's  shoulders 
struck  the  ground.  His  hold  was  relaxed  while 
falling.  Quincy  doubled  his  legs  up,  put  both  feet 
against  Bob's  stomach,  gave  him  a  violent  kick, 
and  Bob  was  once  more  upon  his  back. 

"  'Twarn't  fair,"  he  yelled.  "  I  had  him  down 
first." 

"  We  weren't  playing  for  points,"  said  Quincy, 
"  and  everything's  fair  in  rough  and  tumble.  If 
you  want  some  more,  I'm  ready." 

Bob  stood  sullenly,  but  made  no  move  forward. 

"  Now,  let's  talk  it  over,"  said  Tom.  "  Do  you 
think  this  young  lady  or  my  friend  lied  to  you? 
Before  you  answer,  just  remember  this  is  my  fight 
now,  and  unless  you  take  back  the  lie  and  apologize 
for  what  you  said  and  did  to  this  young  lady,  I'll 
thrash  you  so  they'll  have  to  send  a  wagon  to  carry 
you  home." 

Bob  did  not  speak. 

"  Quincy,"  said  Tom,  "  you  go  along  with  the 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       225 

young  lady,  and  I'll  settle  my  account  after  you're 
gone.  You  look  a  little  white  around  the  gills. 
You  had  no  right  to  fight  a  heavy-weight  like  him." 

"  I  wish  to  thank  you  both,"  said  Mary,  "  but 
I'm  a  stranger  in  this  town  —  I  have  lived  here 
only  a  few  months,  and  —  I  don't  know  your 
names." 

She  blushed  prettily  and  the  lids  modestly  covered 
the  blue  eyes.  The  three  had  moved  along  the  road 
a  short  distance  while  she  was  speaking. 

"  My  name  is  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  and  this 
is  my  friend  and  classmate  at  Andover,  Thomas 
Chripp." 

The  lids  were  lifted  but  the  blush  deepened. 
"  My  name  is  Mary  Dana.  I  live  with  my  father 
on  Pettingill  Street." 

"  Why,"  cried  Quincy,  "  Ezekiel  Pettingill  is  my 
uncle  —  I  live  writh  him.  I'm  going  home  your 
way,  and,  with  your  permission,  I  will  escort  you 
to  your  father's  house." 

"  All  right,  Quincy  —  you  go  ahead,"  said  Tom. 
"  But  you  must  excuse  me.  I've  kept  Mr.  Wood 
waiting." 

They  were  around  a  bend  in  the  road  by  this 
time.  When  Tom  returned  to  the  scene  of  the 
encounter,  Mr.  Wood  was  not  in  sight.  Mr.  Chripp 
laughed,  and  paraphrased  an  old  couplet. 


226   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"He  who  fights,  then  runs  away, 
Will  have  to  fight  some  other  day." 

Quincy  walked  beside  Mary,  but  said  little.  He 
would  not  acknowledge  it,  but  the  exertion  had 
been  too  much  for  him.  His  knees  felt  weak,  his 
sight  grew  dim,  and,  before  Mary  was  aware  of 
his  condition,  he  sank  upon  the  grass  by  the 
roadside. 

She  knelt  beside  him,  took  off  his  straw  hat  and 
fanned  him.  Then  she  lifted  his  head  upon  her 
knee  and  fanned  more  vigorously.  Her  big  blue 
eyes  were  gazing  at  him  when  he  opened  his  and 
looked  up  into  her  face.  Again,  a  rosy  flush  came 
to  her  cheeks. 

"  I'm  better  now,"  said  he.  "  I'm  not  very 
strong,  but  I  can  walk  now." 

He  got  up  with  a  show  of  vigour  that  did  not 
deceive  Mary. 

"  You  rest  here,  and  I'll  send  your  uncle  for  you 
with  a  carriage." 

"  By  no  means,  Miss  Maryi  It  was  only  a 
momentary  feeling.  Throwing  him  over  my  head 
is  what  did  it." 

"  I'm  so  sorry  you  met  Mr.  Wood  and  me." 

"  Well,  I'm  not,  Miss  Mary.  Uncle  'Zeke  told 
me  that  Bob  Wood's  father  used  to  be  the  town 
bully,  and  that  my  father,  when  they  were  both 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       227 

young,  gave  him  a  good  thrashing.  I've  watched 
Bob  —  we  were  in  school  together,  and  he  was 
always  impudent  and  overbearing  to  me  when  I  was 
a  little  fellow.  I've  felt  that  some  day  we'd  have 
it  out  together.  I'm  glad  it's  over,  and  that  I  had 
the  good  fortune  to  serve  you  at  the  same  time." 

Mr.  Dana  thanked  Quincy  for  his  defence  of  his 
daughter  from  further  insult  and  perhaps  injury. 

"  I've  been  in  a  good  many  scraps  myself,  Mr. 
Sawyer.  For  seventeen  years  I  was  a  member  of 
the  detective  squad  in  Boston.  I  resigned  because 
of  ir  juries  received  in  a  fight  with  some  bank  rob- 
bers," and  he  pointed  to  the  crutches  beside  his 
chair,  "  and  although  they  wanted  me  to  stay  at 
police  headquarters  I  wouldn't  hang  onto  a  job 
I  couldn't  do  to  my  own  satisfaction." 

"  I  hope  your  daughter  will  have  no  further 
trouble  with  Mr.  Wood." 

"  No  danger,  Mr.  Sawyer.  She  is  going  to 
boarding  school  very  soon  to  finish  her  education. 
Why,  Mary,  we  have  been  very  remiss.  Can  you 
not  offer  Mr.  Sawyer  some  refreshment  ?  " 

Mary  smiled  and  ran  from  the  room. 

"  You'll  be  lonely  without  her,"  remarked 
Quincy. 

"  Yes,  certainly,  but  I  shall  not  be  alone.  It's 
a  secret  as  yet,  but  the  fact  is  I'm  going  to  marry 


228   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

a  young  lady  who  lives  in  Westvale,  part  of  East- 
borough,  you  know,  and  I  don't  wish  to  force 
Mary  to  live  with  a  step-mother.  I  think  they 
would  agree  all  right,  but  my  plan  will  prevent  any 
possible  unpleasantness.  I  love  them  both  too  well 
to  make  them,  and  myself,  unhappy." 

Some  dainty  cakes,  fruit,  and  cold  well  water 
were  served  in  the  dining  room.  Quincy  ate  slowly, 
but  his  thoughts  were  not  about  the  food.  He  had 
shown  little  interest  in  the  Fernborough  girls  with 
the  exception  of  those  in  the  families  of  his  rela- 
tives and  closest  friends.  But  he  was  nearing  the 
susceptible  age,  when,  to  a  pure-minded  boy,  a  girl 
playmate,  by  some  mysterious  transformation,  be- 
comes an  object  of  admiration,  and  even  veneration. 
That  delicious  mystery  that  surrounds  young 
womanhood  was  attracting  him.  Mary  was  the 
cause  of  his  newly-awakened  interest,  and  soon  a 
strong  friendship  sprang  up  between  the  two. 

When  Hiram  heard  that  Quincy  had  got  the  best 
of  young  Bob  Wood  he  ran  back  to  the  store  and 
told  his  partner. 

"  Say,  Strout,  you  can  run  the  store  for  an  hour 
or  so.  I  must  tell  Mandy.  She'll  be  'mos'  tickled 
to  death." 

Mr.  Strout's  disgust  was  shown  in  both  voice 
and  manner  when  Abner  Stiles  came  in. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       229 

"  Say,  Abner,  is  it  true  that  Sawyer  boy  licked 
Bob?" 

"  I  should  say  so,"  said  Abner.  "  He  must  have 
got  an  all-fired  trouncing,  for  his  face  looks  like  a 
raw  beefsteak,  an'  one  of  the  fellers  said  he'd  been 
spittin'  blood." 

*'  Them  Sawyers  is  brutes,"  was  Mr.  Strout's 
comment.  "  I  hope  to  the  Lord  that  he  is  the  last 
one  of  that  brood  to  come  to  this  town.  Their 
money's  the  best  part  of  'em,  but  it  ain't  any  better, 
when  you  come  to  that,  than  other  folkses." 


230       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER    XX 

MARY   DANA 

QUINCY  and  Tom  spent  one  more  year  at  An- 
dover.  When  they  parted  from  the  old  school,  it 
was  with  feelings  of  deep  regret. 

"  I  could  be  happy  here  for  ten  years  more,"  said 
Quincy. 

"  So  could  I,"  replied  Tom.  "  But,  after  all, 
this  is  only  a  narrow  path  in  the  world  of  knowl- 
edge. Harvard  is  but  a  street  and  when  we  get 
out  into  the  world  I  suppose  we  shall  find  a  boule- 
vard." 

"  I'm  going  to  look  down  upon  the  world  before 
I  investigate  its  thoroughfares,"  remarked  Quincy. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  shall  visit  Fernborough  for  only  a  short  time 
this  summer,  a  few  days  in  which  to  see  the  folks, 
and  then  I  shall  go  to  the  White  Mountains.  I'm 
going  to  stand  on  the  top  of  Mount  Washington, 
and  look  down  on  the  busy  hives  of  men." 

Tom  knew  Quincy  had  received  a  letter  from 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       231 

Mary,  saying  that  she  and  her  aunt  intended 
spending  the  summer  at  Fabyans,  and  he  felt  that 
Quincy,  being  near  Mary,  would  probably  be 
on  a  higher  pinnacle  than  any  mountain  could  sup- 
ply, and  the  "  eternal  hills  "  would  become  objects 
of  secondary  importance.  But,  Tom  wisely  re- 
frained from  mentioning  these  thoughts,  for  lovers 
do  not  seek  confidants  unless  help  is  needed. 

Quincy  found  Fernborough  but  little  changed. 
During  the  fourteen  years  that  he  had  been  a  resi- 
dent of,  or  a  visitor  to,  the  town  there  had  been 
but  little  to  disturb  its  serenity.  Goldsmith's  "  De- 
serted Village  "  could  not  have  had  a  better  record 
for  unbroken  placidity.  The  wrestling  match  be- 
tween young  Quincy  and  Bob  Wood  had  been  an 
incentive  to  some  animated  conversations  at  meal 
times  and  at  the  grocery,  but  the  "  locals  "  in  the 
Fernborough  Gazette  had  never  risen  above  the 
tisual  level  of, 

Hal  Prentiss  has  bought  a  Jersey  cow, 
'Strout  and  Maxwell  have  a  new  wagon, 
William  Jones  has  painted  his  fence  green, 
Sol.  Peters  cut  twenty  tons  of  hay  from  his  lot 
on  the  Center  Road, 

Mrs.  Jerusha  May  is  visiting  her  daughter  Han- 
nah at  Westvale, 

And  more  of  the  same  kind,  interesting'  to  a  rural 


232   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

community  but  considered  inconsequential  by  those 
conversant  with  more  exciting  intelligence. 

But  Fernborough  was  destined  to  have  its  share 
of  important  events,  which  incidentally  interfered 
with  the  well  laid  plans  of  both  Quincy  and  Mary 
for  the  vacation  in  the  mountains. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  town's  history  newsboys 
went  through  its  streets,  calling  out  "  All  about 
the  Murder  at  Cottonton,"  and  offering  for  sale 
copies  of  the  Cottonton  Journal.  The  boys  held 
up  the  papers  so  the  headlines  in  large  type  could 
be  seen.  The  word  "  Fernborough  "  caught  the 
eyes  of  those  attracted  by  the  word  "  Murder  "  and 
the  copies  were  soon  disposed  of,  obliging  many 
intending  purchasers  to  share  the  news  with  those 
who  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  copies. 

Quincy  was  in  Mason  Square  when  the  newsboys 
arrived  and  he  purchased  a  paper.  He  glanced  at 
the  headlines  and  saw  a  name  that  caused  him  to 
utter  an  exclamation  of  astonishment.  He  did  not 
stop  to  discuss  the  matter  with  any  of  the  large 
crowd  that  had  been  collected,  but  whipping  up  his 
horse  soon  reached  Mary's  home.  Leaving  the 
animal  standing  in  the  yard  he  burst  into  the  sit- 
ting room  crying  loudly,  "  Mary !  Mary !  " 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Quincy  —  are  you 
hfert?" 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       233 

"  No,  but  something  has  happened  in  Cottonton 
and  they  sent  newsboys  over  here  with  the  papers." 

"  Somebody  living  in  Fernborough  must  be 
mixed  up  in  the  affair,"  said  Mr.  Dana,  who  was 
sitting  in  his  rocking  chair  near  the  window. 

"  I  should  say  there  was,  decidedly  so.  Sit  down, 
and  I'll  read  what  it  says." 

"THE  MURDER  AT  COTTONTON 

"  A  YOUNG  MAN  NAMED  ROBERT  WOOD,  A  NATIVE 
OF  FERNBOROUGH,  ARRESTED  AS  THE  CRIMINAL 
AND  LOCKED  UP  WITHOUT  BAIL.  ANOTHER  CAN- 
DIDATE FOR  THE  ELECTRIC  CHAIR !  " 

"Bob  Wood,  he  was  the  one  who  insulted  you, 
wasn't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  but  that  was  a  long  time  ago,"  said 
Mary.  "  Do  let  Quincy  read  the  rest  of  it." 

"  A  brutal  murder  was  committed  last  night  at 
the  Ellicott  Mills,"  Quincy  continued.  "  The  unfor- 
tunate victim  was  Mr.  Samuel  Ellicott,  the  treasurer 
and  principal  owner.  He  was  found  sitting  at  his 
desk  with  his  head  crushed  in.  The  blood-stained 
implement  of  destruction  has  been  discovered.  Rob- 
ert Wood,  Jr.,  a  native  of  the  adjoining  town  of 
Fernborough,  has  been  arrested  and  held  without 


234   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

bail.  Young  Wood  has  been  an  employee  at  the 
mill,  but  had  aspired  to  the  hand  of  Mr.  Ellicott's 
only  daughter  Mabel.  Mr.  Ellicott  was  firmly  op- 
posed to  the  match,  and,  with  the  view,  probably, 
of  forcing  the  young  man  to  leave  the  city,  had 
discharged  him  from  his  employ.  Mr.  Ellicott  was 
busily  engaged  in  making  preparations  for  pay  day, 
which  occurs  to-day,  and  was  alone  in  his  office  at 
the  time.  There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  of  the  guilt 
of  the  accused.  His  cane  was  found  in  Mr.  Elli- 
cott's office  and  must  have  been  used  to  inflict  the 
murderous  blows  which  have  deprived  Cottonton 
of  one  of  its  most  enterprising  and  respected  citi- 
zens." 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Mary?"  asked 
Quincy. 

"  I  don't  know  yet.  What  do  you  think, 
father?" 

"  The  case  has  no  mystery  —  no  charm  for  the 
detective's  mind.  I  was  thinking  that  naughty  boys 
who  plague  little  girls  often  become  wicked  men. 
Now,  what  do  you  think?  " 

Mary  did  not  answer  at  once.  When  she  did 
speak  it  was  the  result  of  deliberation.  In  a 
small  way  she  had  often  tried  to  help  her  father  out 
in  solving  some  of  the  mysteries  that  had  come  up 
in  his  line  of  work,  and  now  the  detective  instinct 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       235 

in  her  was  strongly  aroused  as  Quincy  knew  it 
would  be. 

"  Quincy  and  I  both  know  the  young  man,  — 
not  pleasurably,  I'll  admit,"  she  said,  finally. 
"  Everybody  thinks  him  guilty,  but  we  have  no 
right  to  join  the  multitude  without  cause.  He  may 
be  innocent.  It  would  be  a  double  victory  to  repay 
an  enemy  with  kindness,  and,  perhaps,  save  an  in- 
nocent man's  life." 

"Just  what  I  thought  you  would  say,"  cried 
Quincy.  "  I  feel  too  that  there  is  a  chance  that 
Wood  is  not  the  one.  But  what  can  we  do  ?  "  he 
continued. 

"  First,  you  must  go  and  see  Bob  Wood's  father, 
Quincy,  and  tell  him  that  I  am  going  to  investigate 
the  affair,  with  my  father's  help.  But  tell  him  he 
must  be  quiet  about  it.  If  we  are  to  accomplish 
anything,  it  must  be  done  without  any  one  knowing 
we  are  interested  in  the  matter.  Father  and  I  will 
look  over  all  the  papers  that  have  reports  of  the 
trial,  and,  perhaps  you  had  better  attend  the  trial 
yourself,  and  make  careful  notes,  for  the  papers 
do  not  always  get  things  just  straight.  Then,  I 
want  to  see  Miss  Mabel  myself,  and  see  what  she 
says." 

"But,  why  do  you  wish  to  do  all  this,  Mary?" 
said  Mr.  Dana.  "  It  strikes  me  as  being  a  simple 


236   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

case  of  a  very  brutal  murder,  and  one  in  which 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  authorities  have  got  the 
right  man." 

"  I  don't  believe  him  guilty,  that's  all." 

"  That's  an  opinion, —  not  a  reason." 

"  I  know  it,  but  woman's  intuition  often  comes 
nearer  to  the  truth  than  man's  judgment." 

She  threw  her  arms  about  her  father's  neck, 
and  her  eyes  looked  down  into  his,  "  You'll  help 
all  you  can,  won't  you,  father?  "  she  pleaded. 

"  Well,  I  have  nothing  else  to  do,  and  this  af- 
fair awakens  my  interest.  But  from  what  I  know 
of  the  case  now,  I  think  they  have  the  right 
.  man." 

"  You're  a  dear,  good  father  to  help,"  and  she 
gave  him  another  embrace  and  a  kiss. 

The  next  day  there  was  a  preliminary  meeting 
which  Quincy  attended  at  Mary's  request.  It  was 
with  difficulty  that  Mary  waited  until  he  made  his 
report. 

"  The  principal  witness  was  Gustave  Pinchot,  the 
night  watchman.  He  heard  loud  voices  but  as 
Mr.  Ellicott  was  quite  deaf  he  did  not  attach  much 
importance  to  that.  Pinchot  didn't  see  anyone  come 
in  or  go  out." 

"  Couldn't  Bob  Wood  prove  an  alibi  ?  " 

"Hardly,   for  he  testified  that  he  went  to  the 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       237 

office  that  evening,  and  Miss  Ellicott  said  that  he 
told  her  he  was  going." 

"  No  alibi  —  and  no  evidence  yet/'  said  Mr. 
Dana. 

"  It's  coming,"  said  Quincy.  "  Mrs.  Larrabee 
with  whom  Wood  boarded  testified  that  he  had  a 
heavy  oaken  staff  and  that  he  took  it  with  him 
when  he  went  out  that  evening  because  he  had 
sprained  his  ankle." 

"  Did  Mr.  Wood  acknowledge  that  the  staff  was 
his?" 

*'  He  did  finally.  He  injured  his  case  by  saying, 
at  first,  that  he  didn't  take  it  with  him,  but  Mrs. 
Larrabee's  testimony  knocked  that." 

"  Is  that  all  the  testimony  against  him  ?  "  inquired 
Mary. 

"  Oh,  no,"  continued  Quincy.  "  Wood  made  a 
damaging  statement  that  will  make  it  go  hard  with 
him.  When  he  asked  Ellicott  for  his  daughter's 
hand,  the  old  man  got  mad  and  threatened  to  kick 
him  out.  Then  the  judge  asked  Wood  what  he 
said  when  Ellicott  threatened  him  and  the  young 
fellow  incriminated  himself  by  saying  that  he  told 
Ellicott  if  he  did  that  he  would  not  live  to  do  it 
again." 

"Did  it  appear  that  he  had  been  kicked  out?" 
inquired  Mary. 


238   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  No ;   and  Wood  denied  it  as  well." 

"  And  you  saw  his  father,  Quincy  ?  What  did 
he  have  to  say?" 

"  He's  all  broken  up,  but  says  that  his  son  is 
innocent." 

"  Of  course,  that's  to  be  expected,"  said  Mary, 
and  then  continued,  "  I  saw  Mabel  Ellicott  yes- 
terday. She's  in  love  with  him,  sure,  and  of 
course  does  not  think  him  guilty.  She  told  me, 
though,  that  Bob  Wood  had  said  to  her  that  if 
she  were  an  orphan  there  would  be  no  objection 
to  their  marriage." 

"  That  would  probably  go  against  him,  if  the 
prosecution  calls  her  at  the  trial,  and  she  testifies  to 
that.  But,  what  do  you  really  think  about  it,  Mr. 
Dana  ?  "  asked  Quincy. 

"  I  have  my  suspicions,  but  I  am  not  going  to 
mention  them  yet.  You  two  young  people  are  ta- 
king hold  of  the  matter  in  good  shape,  and  I  want 
to  see  what  you  can  do  about  it;  but,  although,  I 
do  not  say  that  Wood  is  not  guilty,  I  do  say  that  I 
doubt  if  the  government  has  sufficient  evidence 
to  convict  him." 

Mary  became  so  interested  in  the  ease  that 
she  decided  not  to  go  to  the  White  Mountains  for 
the  summer,  and  Quincy  also  remained  in  Fern- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       239 

borough,  helping  Mary  as  much  as  he  could. 
Often  they  would  go  off  on  long  tramps  in  the 
surrounding  country,  and  once  Quincy  went  to  Bos- 
ton and  was  gone  several  days.  That  they  procured 
some  evidence  was  clear  from  the  satisfied  remarks 
made  by  Mr.  Dana,  who  approved  of  the  lines  on 
which  they  were  working. 

Although  they  had  made  some  headway  they 
were  not  ready  to  present  their  theories  when  the 
time  came  for  Bob  Wood's  trial.  Many  thought 
him  innocent,  but  the  jury  were  of  a  different 
opinion,  and  brought  in  a  verdict  of  murder  in  the 
first  degree. 

The  day  after  the  close  of  the  trial,  the. district 
attorney  of  Normouth  County  was  sitting  in  his 
office  opposite  the  Court  House.  He  was  prepar- 
ing his  address  opposing  the  granting  of  a  new 
trial,  which  he  knew  would  be  proposed  the  next 
day  by  the  counsel  for  the  defence. 

He  had  gone  over  the  evidence  time  and  time 
again.  He  was  a  conscientious  man.  He  felt  that 
the  law  of  the  State  had  been  defied  —  had  been 
outraged  —  and  yet  within  his  heart  was  that  nat- 
ural feeling  of  sympathy  and  pity  for  the  unfor- 
tunate being  for  whom  but  a  few  short  weeks  of 
life  remained,  and  he  could  not  help  regretting  the 


240   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

part  he  had  been  obliged  to  take  in  convicting  the 
young  man. 

At  that  moment,  a  clerk  entered  and  said  that 
a  young  lady  wished  to  see  him.  In  obedience  to 
the  direction  given,  the  clerk  withdrew;  the  door 
was  opened  again,  and  a  blue  eyed,  fair-haired  girl 
entered.  Standing  near  the  district  attorney's  desk, 
she  said : 

"  Mr.  Harlow,  as  there  is  no  one  here  to  intro- 
duce me,  I  will  introduce  myself.  My  name  is  Mary 
Dana.  My  father  is,  or  rather  was,  a  detective  for 
seventeen  years  in  Boston,  but  our  present  abiding 
place  is  the  town  of  Fernborough.  In  the  city 
he  often  used  to  tell  me  of  the  cases  on  which  he 
was  working,  and  I  would  try  to  solve  them  with 
him.  Robert  Wood  lived  in  Fernborough,  and 
from  the  day  of  his  arrest  I  have  been  much  inter- 
ested in  the  case,  and  with  the  help  of  my  father 
and  a  friend  of  mine,  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  the 
son  of  the  former  governor,  I  have  been  trying  to 
find  the  man  who  murdered  Mr.  Ellicott,  —  for  I 
have  never  believed  that  Robert  Wood  was  the 
guilty  person."  She  smiled,  and  added,  "  Detect- 
ives, I  believe,  are  more  often  interested  in 
strengthening  evidence,  and  bringing  about  im- 
prisonment and  executions  than  they  are  in  trying 
to  prove  people  innocent." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       241 

"  But,  my  dear  young  lady,"  said  the  district  at- 
torney, "  the  young  man  whom  you  speak  of  has 
already  been  proved  guilty  by  a  fair-minded  jury. 
There  seems  to  be  no  question  of  his  being  inno- 
cent, and,  after  the  jury  have  returned  their  ver- 
dict it  is  rather  late  to  still  try  to  prove  him  not 
guilty," 

"  What  I  have  to  tell  you  I  think  is  important. 
Can't  you  spare  me  a  little  time  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  luncheon  engagement  in  half  an  hour, 
and  can  give  you  tvyenty  minutes,  but  it  will  do 
no  good,  I  am  sure.  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  "  and 
Mr.  Harlow  placed  a  chair  for  her  near  his 
desk. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mary,  as  she  seated  herself, 
"  I  will  be  as  brief  as  possible.  I  have  read  of 
many  murder  cases,  but  I  believe  I  never  knew  of 
one  in  which  there  was  more  conclusive  evidence 
against  the  person  accused  than  in  this  instance. 
When  I  first  took  up  the  case,  my  father  did  not 
think  there  was  a  possible  loophole  of  escape  for 
him;  but  the  truth  does  not  always  appear  on  the 
surface.  Then,  jurors  get  wrong  impressions. 
Witnesses  are  often  prejudiced.  Sometimes  the 
judge  is  not  impartial.  Then  there  are  coinci- 
dences which  are  fatal  so  far  as  appearances  go, 
but  which  can  be  satisfactorily  explained." 


242   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

The  district  attorney  nodded,  somewhat  impa- 
tiently, and  fingered  his  watch-chain. 

"  The  day  after  the  murder  I  called  on  Mabel 
Ellicott,  primarily  to  ask  her  some  questions  about 
Robert  Wood,  but  I  also  had  a  chance  to  see  the 
body  of  her  father,  and  to  examine  the  wound 
upon  the  murdered  man's  head.  I  decided  that 
Mr.  Ellicott  had  been  struck  with  something  else 
beside  the  oaken  staff  which,  covered  with  blood, 
was  found  near  his  chair.  In  fact,  I  found  in  the 
wound  certain  foreign  substances  which  could  not 
have  formed  part  of  an  oaken  staff. 

"  That  was  a  clue,  but  I  told  it  only  to  my  father 
and  Mr.  Sawyer.  It  led  us  to  look  for  something 
else.  I  must  confess  that  a  week  passed  without 
our  discovering  anything  to  bolster  up  my  opinion. 
Finally,  it  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  the  foreign 
substances  I  had  found  in  the  wound  might  have 
been  on  that  part  of  the  cane  that  comes  in  contact 
with  the  ground.  But  we  will  drop  that  for  the 
present. 

"  Back  of  the  mill  is  a  piece  of  sunken  ground. 
During  the  night,  after  Mr.  Ellicott  was  murdered, 
there  was  a  heavy  fall  of  rain,  and  this  piece  of 
sunken  ground  was  covered  with  water  to  the  depth 
of  several  inches,  in  some  places,  at  least  six.  I 
do  not  mean  that  the  rainfall  was  so  great,  but  the 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       243 

water  ran  down  from  higher  elevations  until  it 
made,  what  appeared  to  be,  quite  an  extensive 
pond. 

"  Mr.  Sawyer  and  I  made  several  circuits  of  this 
temporary  pond ;  why,  I  could  not  exactly  tell  you. 
A  detective,  I  have  been  told,  can  seldom  tell  why 
he  examines  certain  objects  so  closely,  but  some- 
thing seemed  to  draw  me  towards  that  improvised 
lake. 

"  While  looking  at  the  water,  I  saw  something 
which  projected  several  inches  above  its  surface, 
and  I  had  a  curiosity  to  know  what  it  was.  Mr. 
Sawyer  put  on  a  pair  of  rubber  boots,  and  waded 
out  to  it,  lifted  it  from  the  water,  and  found  it  to 
be  a  large,  irregular  shaped  stone  weighing  at 
least  ten  pounds,  which  he  brought  back  to  me. 
He  then  went  back  and  splashed  round  in  the  pond 
with  the  hope  of  finding  something  else  of  interest, 
but  could  discover  nothing. 

"  I  wondered  how  that  stone  came  to  be  in  the 
middle  of  that  pond,  and  we  devoted  several  days 
after  that  to  an  examination  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Back  from  the  mill,  some  four  or  five 
hundred  feet  away,  was  a  ledge  of  rock.  We,  that 
is  Mr.  Sawyer  and  I,  for  I  forgot  to  tell  you  my 
father  is  now  a  cripple  and  could  only  help  us  with 
his  advice  at  home,  examined  its  surface  very  care- 


244   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

fully,  using  a  magnifying  glass  and,  to  my  great 
satisfaction,  I  finally  located  a  place  into  which  the 
stone  found  in  the  pond  fitted  nicely.  Evidently, 
then,  the  stone  had  been  detached  for  some  purpose, 
and  that  purpose  having  been  accomplished,  the 
stone  had  been  thrown  into  the  pond." 

The  district  attorney  looked  at  his  watch  again 
and  betrayed  signs  of  uneasiness. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Harlow,  but  would  you  not 
rather  lose  a  dinner  than  send  an  innocent  man 
to  his  death  ?  " 

"  You  still  have  ten  minutes,"  was  the  district 
attorney's  reply,  "  But,  I  cannot  see  the  connection 
between  what  you  are  relating  and  your  idea  that 
Robert  Wood  is  not  guilty." 

Mary  continued  her  narration. 

"  I  asked  Mr.  Sawyer  to  examine  the  tools  and 
implements  in  the  mill  workshop  and  he  found  a 
pickaxe,  one  point  of  which  had  been  subjected 
to  rather  rough  treatment.  I  naturally  connected 
that  pickaxe  with  the  ledge  of  rock  that  had  been 
found  in  the  pond. 

"  An  examination  of  the  night  watchman's  quar- 
ters followed.  Mr.  Sawyer  could  discover  nothing 
until  he  came  to  a  small  cupboard  which  was 
locked.  Locks,  however,  do  not  keep  detectives, 
or  criminals  either,  from  making  further  investiga- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       245 

tions.  In  the  cupboard,  he  found  a  coil  of  rope. 
There  was  a  certain  peculiarity  about  that  rope  of 
which  I  will  speak  later. 

"  After  that  Mr.  Sawyer  loafed  around  the  mill 
quite  a  good  deal  in  the  evenings  and  became  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Pinchot  the  night  watchman. 
He  is  a  French  Canadian.  He  told  Mr.  Sawyer 
that  his  parents  lived  in  a  small  town  near  Mont- 
real, that  they  were  both  quite  old  and  he  was  their 
only  living  son,  although  he  had  five  sisters,  all 
working  in  the  States. 

"  He  had  saved  some  money,  and  as  his  parents 
had  a  farm,  and  needed  his  assistance,  he  had  re- 
signed his  position  and  the  day  following  the  mur- 
der was  to  have  been  the  last  one  at  the  mill.  He 
had  withdrawn  his  resignation  when  told  that  the 
law  would  require  him  as  a  witness,  and  has  con- 
tinued in  service. 

"  Mr.  Sawyer  then  made  a  trip  to  Boston  and 
found  that  Mr.  Pinchot  had  not  intended  to  go  to 
Canada  but  had  been  making  inquiries  as  to  when 
a  steamer  would  sail  for  France.  He  had  been 
told  he  would  have  to  go  to  New  York.  Am  I 
taking  up  too  much  of  your  time,  Mr.  Harlow?  " 

"  It  makes  no  difference  now.  I  am  too  late  for 
the  dinner.  Pray  proceed." 

"  While  in  the  city  Mr.  Sawyer  called  upon  the 


246   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

architects  who  drew  the  plans  for  the  Ellicott  Mills. 
I  mean  the  original  plan,  for  many  changes  have 
been  made  in  the  interior.  He  procured  a  copy  of 
this,  and  we  found  that  when  the  mill  was  first 
constructed,  the  part  used  by  the  treasurer  at  the 
time  of  the  murder  had  been  the  receiving  room 
for  raw  materials.  I  next  made  an  excuse  for  us 
to  visit  the  mills  one  Sunday  and  we  investigated 
the  second  story  of  the  mill.  The  floor  was  cov- 
ered with  grease  and  dirt  and  was  black  with  age. 
I  got  upon  my  hands  and  knees  and,  with  my 
magnifying  glass,  examined  every  foot  of  the 
floor. 

"  For  a  long  time,  my  search  was  not  rewarded, 
but,  finally,  I  found  a  white  place  in  the  wood. 
A  splinter  had  been  detached.  With  a  knife,  I 
scraped  the  dirt  from  the  floor.  My  search  was 
rewarded.  I  had  found  a  trap  door!  Its  former 
use  was  apparent.  On  the  wall,  above  the  trap 
door,  was  a  stout  hook.  Upon  this  hook  the  tackle 
had  been  put  and  goods  lifted  from  the  receiving 
room  to  the  story  above." 

"  Well  what  does  all  this  lead  up  to?  "  asked 
the  district  attorney. 

"  I  will  show  you  very  soon,  now,  Mr.  Harlow, 
If  you  remember,  the  safe  at  the  mill  was  found 
open  the  morning  after  the  murder  but  had  been 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       247 

closed  and  locked  by  the  superintendent.  This  was 
a  very  foolish  thing  to  do,  as  the  combination  had 
been  known  only  to  the  treasurer,  and  it  was  sev- 
eral days  before  it  was  opened  by  an  expert  sent 
by  the  manufacturers.  It  was  then  found  that  the 
money  drawn  by  Mr.  Ellicott  for  the  payroll,  some 
three  thousand  dollars,  had  disappeared." 

"  Yes,  I  remember/'  said  the  district  attorney, 
"  the  thief  was  never  found,  and  with  the  more 
important  matter  of  the  murder  on  our  hands  little 
attention  was  paid  to  the  loss  of  the  money.  It 
was  clear  from  the  start  that  Robert  Wood  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  because  revenge,  not  robbery 
was  his  motive.  But,  what  does  all  this  mean  that 
you  are  telling  me?" 

"  I  forgot  to  state,  or,  rather  postponed  saying 
it,  that  the  coil  of  rope  that  was  found  in  the  cup- 
board had  a  noose  in  one  end  of  it,  and  that  in 
Mr.  Ellicott's  wound  I  found  small  particles  of 
stone.  I  summed  up  the  case  thus :  Pinchot  plot- 
ted to  steal  the  money  drawn  for  payday  and  to 
kill  Mr.  Ellicott  if  it  became  necessary.  He  lifted 
the  trap  door,  having  thrown  the  noose  in  the  rope 
over  the  hook  in  the  wall.  Mr.  Ellicott  was  quite 
deaf  and  did  not  notice  the  opening  of  the  trap 
door  or  the  man's  descent  by  means  of  the  rope. 
He  used  the  stone  because  he  could  throw  it  away 


248   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

and  no  weapon  could  be  found.  The  murderer  saw 
the  oaken  staff.  He  knew  that  Mr.  Ellicott  had  a 
visitor  that  evening  so  he  used  the  staff  to  complete 
his  deadly  work  and  left  it  behind  as  a  witness 
against  an  innocent  man.  He  took  the  money  from 
the  safe,  drew  himself  up  by  the  rope,  closed  the  trap 
door,  locked  up  the  rope  and  threw  the  stone  into 
the  pond.  In  France  he  would  be  safe  to  spend  the 
proceeds  of  his  crime.  A  nice  bit  of  circumstantial 
evidence,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Then  you  believe  in  circumstantial  evidence, 
Miss  Dana?  " 

"  In  certain  cases.  But  I  think  it  would  render 
the  community  just  as  safe,  and  be  more  just  to 
the  accused  if,  in  cases  of  circumstantial  evidence 
where  there  is  the  least  doubt,  the  sentence  should 
be  imprisonment  for  life  with  a  provision  in  the 
law  that  there  should  be  no  pardon  unless  the  in- 
nocence of  the  life  convict  was  conclusively  proven. 
When  a  murderer  is  taken  red-handed,  I  would  not 
abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  old  Mosaic  law  —  an 
eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  a  life  for  a 
life.  But  you  know  that  many  murderers  of  whose 
premeditated  guilt  there  could  be  no  doubt  have 
been  much  more  leniently  dealt  with  by  our  judges 
and  juries  than  those  caught  in  the  coils  of  cir- 
cumstantial evidence." 


OP   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       249 

"Where  is  the  watchman  now?"  asked  the  dis- 
trict attorney. 

"  Here  in  Cottonton,  but  he  is  intending  to  leave 
to-night  for  New  York,  I  found  out  this  morning. 
Of  course,  he  was  not  able  to  leave  before  this  as 
he  had  to  stay  in  the  vicinity,  being  a  witness  at  the 
trial,  but  his  leaving  so  soon  now  simply  seemed  to 
confirm  my  suspicions,  and  I  thought  it  time  to 
bring  the  matter  to  your  attention." 

"  Miss  Dana,"  said  the  district  attorney,  rising, 
and  holding  out  his  hand  to  her.  "  I  have  done 
the  best  I  could  to  convict  Robert  Wood  of  the 
murder  of  Samuel  Ellicott,  because  I  really  be- 
lieved him  guilty,  and  my  oath  of  office  bound  me 
to  do  my  duty;  but,  if  he  is  innocent,  I  believe  it 
as  much  my  duty  to  right  the  wrong  done  him. 
You  have  built  up  a  careful  case,  and  I  myself  shall 
ask  for  a  stay  of  sentence  until  after  this  new 
evidence  can  be  presented  to  the  Grand  Jury. 
I  believe  you  have  saved  an  innocent  man, 
and  I  feel  your  future  as  a  great  detective  is  as- 
sured." 

It  was  unnecessary  for  Mr.  Harlow  to  apply 
for  stay  of  sentence  in  the  case  of  The  Common- 
wealth of  Massachusetts  vs.  Robert  Wood.  Within 
an  hour  after  Mary  Dana  had  left  the  district 
attorney's  office,  Gustave  Pinchot  was  under  ar- 


250   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

rest,  and,  sitting  in  the  same  chair  which  Mary 
had  occupied,  was  confessing  his  crime. 

The  day  that  Robert  Wood  was  discharged,  with 
no  stain  upon  his  name,  Quincy  and  Mary  took 
her  father  to  Cottonton.  At  the  prison  they  met 
Robert's  father  who  had  come  to  take  his  son 
home.  He  was  profuse  in  his  thanks  to  Mr.  Dana, 
for  to  him  he  considered  his  son's  escape  from 
death  was  due. 

"  You  are  wrong,  Mr.  Wood,"  said  Mr.  Dana. 
"  Your  son  owes  his  life  not  so  much  to  me  as 
to  my  daughter  here,  and  to  Mr.  Sawyer.  She 
practically  worked  up  the  case  herself;  I  made  but 
few  suggestions,  and  it  was  at  her  request  that 
Mr.  Sawyer  made  certain  investigations  that  fitted 
in  with  her  own  ideas  and  made  success  possible." 

"  Miss  Dana,"  said  young  Robert,  "  a  year  ago 
I  insulted  you,  and  was  properly  treated  for  my 
words  and  actions  by  Mr.  Sawyer.  I  owe  you 
both  an  apology  which  I  now  make  and  ask  your 
forgiveness.  But  for  you,  and  Mr.  Sawyer,  I 
should  have  died  a  felon.  You  have,  indeed,  heaped 
coals  of  fire  on  my  head." 

Mary  answered,  "  That  was  forgiven  long  ago, 
but  if  you  wish  my  forgiveness  you  have  it  freely. 
How  does  Miss  Ellicott  feel  now  that  you  are  de- 
clared innocent  ?  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       251 

"  She  came  to  see  me  this  morning  and  we  are 
to  be  married  as  soon  as  possible,  and  I  am  to 
become  the  treasurer  of  the  mill.  She  will  own 
three-quarters  of  the  stock." 

When  Mr.  S trout  learned  that  Robert's  release 
was  due  to  the  exertions  of  Mary  and  Quincy  he 
sniffed  and  exclaimed : 

"  Folks  in  love  will  do  all  sorts  of  things.  She's 
gone  on  that  young  Sawyer,  and  she  only  started 
in  on  the  thing  so  she  could  have  a  chance  to 
traipse  around  the  country  with  him.  He'll  come 
back  here  for  her  some  day,  and  her  market'll  be 
made.  All  I  hope  is  that  he'll  take  her  to  Boston, 
or  some  other  foreign  place  to  live  an'  we  shall 
see  and  hear  the  last  of  'em." 


252       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXI 

AT    HARVARD 

THE  newspapers  gave  much  space  to  the  near 
approach  to  miscarriage  of  justice  in  the  Wood's 
case,  and  many  editorials  were  written  on  the  fal- 
lacy of  allowing  circumstantial  evidence  to  carry 
as  much  weight  as  it  did.  But  what  was  spoken 
of  most  was  the  clever  detective  work  of  Mary 
Dana.  She  was  the  recipient  of  congratulatory 
letters  for  her  work  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
and  the  press  could  not  say  too  much  in  her  praise. 

Mary  received  a  most  flattering  offer  to  join 
the  Isburn  Detective  Bureau  in  Boston.  Mr.  Irving 
Isburn,  the  proprietor  of  the  world-wide  known 
agency,  had  for  more  than  fifty  years  been  engaged 
in  solving  mysteries  and  apprehending  offenders 
against  the  law.  His  success  had  been  phenomenal, 
and  if  his  agency  had  been  called  "  The  Scotland 
Yard  of  America  "  it  would  have  been  a  derogation 
rather  than  a  compliment.  He  had  surrounded 
himself  with  the  most  expert  men  and  women  in  the 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       253 

profession,  and  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Dana  he  said  he 
considered  Miss  Dana  would  be  a  most  important 
and  valuable  acquisition  to  his  staff.  Mr.  Dana, 
however,  decided  that  Mary  was  too  young  to 
start  business  life,  so  she  was  sent  to  Boston  to 
boarding  school  for  a  year.  At  the  expiration  of 
that  time  she  joined  Mr.  Isburn's  staff,  and  soon 
that  gentleman  wrote  her  father  that  in  certain 
lines  of  investigation  she  was  unexcelled. 

With  the  coming  of  autumn,  after  Bob  Wood's 
release,  Quincy  and  Tom  started  in  on  their  four 
years  at  Harvard.  They  had  passed  their  entrance 
examinations  without  conditions,  so  the  few  days 
in  the  last  of  September,  spent  so  anxiously  by 
many  of  the  freshman  class  in  trying  to  make  up 
conditions  given  them  the  spring  before,  allowed 
Quincy  and  Tom  to  live  in  Arcady  until  the  portals 
of  the  temple  of  learning  were  ajar.  Rooms  were 
engaged  at  Beck  Hall,  and  the  young  men  began 
their  inspection  of  the  classic  city  on  the  Charles. 

"  This  city  is  on  the  square,"  remarked  Tom. 
"  Lafayette,  Central,  Putnam,  Harvard,  Brattle, 
and  some  more  on  the  East  side  I  suppose." 

"  The  college  is  on  the  square  too,"  said  Quincy, 
"  as  long  as  Dr.  Eliot  is  Prexie." 

College  life  has  been  depicted  maHy  times  in 
books,  and  Quincy  and  Tom's  four  years  probably 


254   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

contained  few  events  that  had  not  had  their  counter- 
parts in  the  lives  of  other  young  Harvard  men. 
They  joined  many  clubs  and  societies  the  initiation 
ceremonies  being,  in  reality,  a  mild  form  of  hazing. 

Quincy  and  his  chum  were  not  goody-goody  boys, 
but  they  had  mutually  pledged  each  other  that  they 
would  lead  temperate  lives  and  refrain  from  all 
dissipation  that  would  prejudice  their  standing  as 
students.  Quincy  saw  Mary  frequently,  and,  after 
she  was  employed  by  Mr.  Isburn,  they  talked  over 
some  of  the  most  interesting  of  Mary's  cases. 

In  their  college  life,  Tom  and  Quincy  were  un- 
suspecting, and  became  the  butt  of  many  good- 
natured  and  some  unkind  jokes.  On  one  occasion 
they  were  invited  to  join  a  theatre  party.  It  was  a 
variety  or  vaudeville  show  and  ended  with  a  panto- 
mime, the  closing  scene  in  which  was  a  skating 
carnival. 

When  the  skaters  came  on,  the  members  of  the 
theatre  party  rose  in  their  seats  and  pelted  the  per- 
formers with  paper  snowballs  made  hard  by  the 
liberal  use  of  paste.  The  police  were  called  in. 
Quincy  and  Tom  had  taken  no  part  in  the  snow- 
balling but,  as  examination  showed  their  pockets 
Were  full  of  the  substitutes  for  the  natural  product, 
they  were  adjudged  as  guilty  as  the  others. 

One    evening    Quincy   and    Tom    went    to    the 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        255 

theatre  together.  During  a  pathetic  speech  by  the 
heroine  the  clang  of  a  big  cow  bell  was  heard.  The 
audience  vented  its  displeasure  in  hisses.  Again 
came  the  clangour  and  all  eyes  were  turned  towards 
the  unconscious  youths,  Quincy  and  Tom.  Again 
were  the  policemen  called  in.  Two  young  men 
who  sat  behind  Quincy  and  his  friend  were  accused 
of  causing  the  disturbance.  They  indignantly 
denied  any  knowledge  of  it  and  left  the  theatre 
threatening  a  suit  for  damages.  Further  investi- 
gation by  the  minions  of  the  law  discovered  the 
bell  fastened  to  the  hat-holder  beneath  Quincy's 
seat,  while  the  string  that  served  as  a  bell  pull  was 
under  Tom's  foot.  Denial  of  such  strong  circum- 
stantial evidence  was  useless  and  Quincy  and  Tom 
promised  to  cause  no  further  annoyance.  On  their 
way  home  in  the  car  they  discussed  the  situation. 

"  It's  Dupont  and  Kidder  that  put  that  up  on  us, 
and  we  must  get  even,"  said  Tom. 

"  But  how  ?  "  was  the  question. 

A  week  later  Tom  purchased  tickets  for  a  whole 
row  of  seats  at  one  of  the  principal  theatres,  ex- 
plaining that  they  were  for  a  large  theatre  party. 
Dupont  and  Kidder  had  been  recipients  of  compli- 
mentary tickets  which  entitled  them  to  seats  in  the 
middle  of  the  row.  They  expected  that  Quincy 
and  Tom  and  other  students  would  complete  the 


256   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

party.  Not  so,  as  events  proved.  Dupont  and 
Kidder,  immaculately  dressed,  had  for  companions 
two  waitresses  at  a  well-known  Cambridge  cafe, 
two  Harvard  Square  hairdressers,  and  a  number 
of  individuals  whose  dress  and  general  appearance 
indicated  physical  strength  rather  than  mental 
powers.  Dupont  and  Kidder  went  out  at  the  end 
of  the  first  act  and  did  not  return. 

The  next  time  that  Tom  met  Fred  Dupont  he 
asked, 

"  Do  you  believe  in  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence? " 

"  My  great-grandfather  signed  it,"  said  Dupont 
proudly. 

"  How  does  it  read?  "  asked  Tom  —  "  something 
about  men  being  born  free  and  equal  —  a  barber's 
as  good  as  a  millionaire's  son  —  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  It's  all  right,"  replied  Dupont,  "  Kidder  and  I 
only  took  one  bell  to  the  theatre,  but  you  kindly 
supplied  us  with  two.  Nothing's  too  good  for  us 
at  that  cafe  now,  and  we've  invited  Kitty  and  May 
to  go  to  the  theatre  with  us  to-morrow  night." 

"  It's  no  use,  Quincy,"  said  Tom.  "  Dupont  and 
Kidder  took  their  medicine  as  patiently  as  we  did, 
and  they  liked  it  so  well  they're  going  to  have  more 
of  it." 

Then  he  told  Quincy  what  Dupont  had  said. 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS  SAWYER        257 

"  The  victory's  ours/'  cried  Quincy.  "  That 
shows  that  Americans,  rich  or  poor,  are  democratic 
at  heart.  All  that  keeps  them  apart  is  the  foolish 
idea  that  the  possession  of  money  lifts  them  above 
their  fellows.  Put  them  on  a  money  equality,  and 
only  the  very  exclusive  ones  will  care  about  the 
colour  of  their  blood.  It  was  a  good  lesson  for 
Dupont  and  Kidder  whose  fathers  are  wealthy  men, 
and  they  have  wisely  profited  by  it." 

"  Then  you  don't  believe  in  social  castes?  "  said 
Tom. 

"  Why  should  I  ?  My  father  married  a  poor 
girl  and  I  don't  expect  to  find  my  wife  on  Beacon 
Street  or  Commonwealth  Avenue." 

After  Tom  had  asked  his  question  the  thought 
came  to  him  that  if  Quincy  had  believed  in  social 
distinctions  on  account  of  wealth  he  would  not  have 
chosen  the  son  of  a  cotton  weaver  as  his  boon  com- 
panion, but  it  was  too  late  to  take  back  the  question, 
and  Quincy  had  answered  it. 

The  four  years  of  study  were  at  an  end.  Quincy 
was  loaded  with  scholastic  honours  while  Tom's 
prowess  has  been  most  effectually  shown  on  the 
ball  team  and  in  the  'Varsity  Eight,  which  came 
near  winning  a  trophy  for  the  Crimson. 

Just  before  Class  Day,  Quincy  went  into  the 
office  of  Sawyer,  Crowninshield,  Lawrence  &  Merry 


258   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

to  see  Harry  Merry  about  some  matters  connected 
with  his  income. 

"  Quincy,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Merry.  "  I  was  on  the  point  of  sending  a  mes- 
senger out  to  Cambridge  to  have  you  come  right  in. 
Something  very  strange  has  happened  this  morning 
and  it  may  be  a  question  which  even  your  friend 
Miss  Dana  may  find  worthy  of  her  skill  in  attempt- 
ing to  solve." 

"What  is  it,  Uncle  Harry?  There  is  nothing  I 
love  like  a  mystery,  and  Miss  Dana  often  talks  her 
cases  over  with  me." 

"  This  is  a  mystery  in  which  you  and  your  mother 
in  England  may  be  greatly  concerned;  but  before 
letting  her  know  anything  about  it  I  think  it  better 
to  find  out  what  it  really  means.  For  you  to  under- 
stand the  matter  clearly,  I  will  have  to  go  back  a 
number  of  years.  In  your  father's  will  your  grand- 
father and  Dr.  Paul  Culver  were  named  as  execu- 
tors. After  a  while  the  doctor  wished  to  resign, 
and  as  you  know  I  was  appointed  in  his  place." 

"  Yes,  and  you  have  always  done  more  than  your 
duty,  and  I  am  truly  grateful.  But,  pardon  me  for 
interrupting  you.  Please  go  on." 

"  To  make  myself  thoroughly  familiar  with  all 
the  details  of  my  trust,  I  went  over  all  the  old 
accounts.  When  your  father  and  mother  started 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        259 

on  that  unfortunate  trip  to  Europe,  your  father  took 
with  him  some  English  gold,  some  bank  notes,  and, 
to  last  him  for  his  further  expenses  while  abroad, 
five  bills  of  exchange,  each  for  two  hundred  pounds, 
Sterling,  a  total  of  about  five  thousand  dollars. 
These  bills  of  exchange  were  drawn  by  his  bank 
here  in  Boston,  and  in  favour  of  the  bank's  agents 
in  London.  About  six  years  ago  I  changed  the 
deposits  of  your  trust  account  to  another  bank. 
Until  then  I  had  always  kept  that  five  thousand  still 
intact,  as  it  was  drawing  fair  interest,  and  as.  you 
may  not  know,  your  mother  has  always  had  an  idea 
that  your  father  was  not  drowned.  But,  when  I 
changed  the  account,  it  seemed  foolish  to  leave  that 
money  still  there,  and  as  the  bills  of  exchange  had 
never  been  presented  for  payment,  I  had  no  trou- 
ble in  having  them  cancelled,  and  receiving  the 
money. 

"  But,  and  here  is  where  the  important  part  of 
the  matter  comes  in  for  you,  one  of  those  bills  of 
exchange,  drawn  over  twenty-three  years  ago,  has 
to-day  been  returned  to  the  bank  here  in  Boston 
from  the  London  agents." 

"  Why,  Uncle  Harry/'  cried  Quincy,  "  what  can  it 
mean?  Is  it  possible  that  my  father  is  still  alive? 
I  can't  understand  it,  I  am  bewildered,"  and  strong 
man  as  he  was  he  was  unnervecl. 


260   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Calm  yourself,  Quincy,"  said  Harry  Merry, 
"  I  am  afraid  that  would  be  entirely  too  good  news 
to  be  true,  but  at  least  it  must  mean  that  your 
father's  body  was  found  some  time  or  other,  and 
probably  the  bill  of  exchange  got  into  the  hands  of 
some  dishonest  person  who  has  cashed  it." 

"  Have  you  got  it  here?  " 

"  Yes,"  and  Mr.  Merry  handed  a  paper  to  him. 

"Is  the  signature  that  of  my  father?"  asked 
Quincy  turning  the  bill  over,  and  looking  at  the 
various  endorsements  on  the  back. 

"  I  am  not  sure.  If  I  were,  there  would  be  one 
great  question  solved,  for  he  would  never  have  put 
his  name  to  it,  of  course,  until  he  was  ready  to  cash 
it.  In  a  way  it  looks  a  little  like  his  writing,  but  it 
may  be,  and  I  think  it  is,  a  rather  bungling  forgery. 
It  is  more  than  likely  that  in  the  wallet  in  which  he 
kept  the  bills  of  exchange  he  may  have  had  some 
papers  to  which  he  had  signed  his  name,  and  the 
signature  was  copied  from  that." 

"  I  want  to  show  this  to  Miss  Dana,"  said  Quincy, 
"  perhaps  she  can  help  me  solve  the  problem.  Have 
you  got  any  paper  with  my  father's  signature  to 
it?" 

"  Wait  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  see  if  I  can  find 
any  in  the  old  files." 

After  a  good  quarter  of  an  hour,  which  to  Quincy 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        261 

seemed  as  though  it  would  never  end,  Mr.  Merry 
came  back,  covered  with  dust,  but  with  the  required 
paper  in  his  hand. 

"  A  lawyer  should  never  destroy  a  paper,"  said 
Mr.  Merry,  "  and  I  am  glad  to  say  this  firm  never 
does.  Here  is  a  letter  your  father  wrote  to  your 
grandfather  nearly  thirty  years  ago,  and  is  dated 
from  Mason's  Corner.  Take  it,  and  the  bill  of 
exchange  with  you.  I  hope  you  can  solve  the  mys- 
tery, and  let's  pray  it  will  turn  out  to  mean  that  you 
are  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior;  but,  my  boy," 
and  Harry  put  his  hand  on  Quincy's  shoulder,  "  do 
not  build  too  many  air  castles  on  it.  If  you  do,  I 
am  afraid  you  have  a  bitter  disappointment  before 
you." 

Quincy  immediately  called  on  Mary  Dana,  and 
had  a  long  talk  with  her  about  the  matter.  He 
told  her  all  his  conversation  with  Harry  Merry  and 
showed  her  the  bill  of  exchange,  and  the  signature 
of  his  father's  which  he  knew  to  be  genuine.  After 
examining  them  both  Mary  said, 

"  In  many  ways,  this  looks  like  a  very  clever 
forgery.  The  characters  are  all  made  the  same  as 
in  the  signature  to  the  letter,  —  notice  the  peculiar 
little  twist  to  the  S  in  the  word  Adams,  but  your 
father  wrote  a  very  firm,  strong  hand,  and  the  wri- 
ting on  the  bill  of  exchange  is  weaker  and  a  little 


262   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

shaky.  That  is  undoubtedly  due  partly  to  the  fact 
that  the  signature  on  the  bill  of  exchange  is  written 
with  a  very  fine  steel  pen,  while  that  in  the  letter 
\vas  written  with  a  quill.  But,  what  makes  me  doubt 
the  genuineness  of  the  signature  is  this,  —  although 
the  characters  are  practically  the  same  on  the  two 
pieces  of  paper,  your  father's  name  in  the  letter  is 
the  writing  of  an  educated  man,  that  on  the  bill  of 
exchange  looks  like  the  efforts  of  a  man  unaccus- 
tomed to  write,  probably  through  ignorance,  but 
perhaps  due  to  the  fact  that  he  has  not  held  a  pen 
for  a  long  time." 

"  But,  Mary/'  asked  Quincy,  "  how  are  we  going 
to  find  out  about  it,  how  can  we  learn  who  did 
sign  it?  " 

"  There  are  the  endorsements  on  the  back.  They 
are  the  only  clues.  Below  your  father's  name  ap- 
pears that  of  Jonathan  Drake;  then  that  of  Agos- 
tino  Tombini,  and,  below  that,  Macquay  Hooker. 
There  is  also  the  stamp  of  the  London  bank.  Where 
the  bill  of  exchange  was  cashed  does  not  appear. 
It  is  evident,  however,  that  the  last  person  who 
signed  it  before  it  reached  the  bank  in  London  was 
Macquay  Hooker.  We  will  cable  London  now, 
and  in  the  morning  will  have  an  answer.  Be  in  to 
see  me  early,  but,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  hold 
myself  in  readiness  to  leave  for  Europe  at  a  mo- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        263 

ment's  notice.  Is  your  work  all  finished  at  Cam- 
bridge ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  had  my  last  examination  yesterday,  and 
I  should  leave  for  the  summer  in  a  few  days.  Class 
Day  is  all  that  keeps  me  now,  but  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  recall  the  invitations  I  have  sent  out, 
and  can  leave  at  any  time." 

On  his  return  to  his  rooms  Quincy  told  Tom 
what  had  happened. 

"  I  had  been  intending  to  speak  about  our  going 
abroad  anyway  this  summer,"  said  Quincy.  "  It's 
the  style  for  college  boys  after  being  graduated 
to  go  to  Europe.  I  want  to  see  my  mother  and 
aunt,  too.  To  be  sure,  I  have  had  nice  long,  loving 
letters  from  them,  and  I've  kept  them  fully  posted 
as  to  my  doings,  but  that  doesn't  quite  come  up  to 
seeing  them.  Now,  with  this  mystery  on  my  hands, 
with  all  it  may  mean  to  me,  I  must  go  anyway. 
Will  you  come  along  with  me?  " 

"  If  dad  don't  mind,  I'll  go." 

"  We'll  run  down  to  Fernborough  for  a  day  or 
two  to  say  good-bye,  if  there  is  time,  and  you  can 
see  your  father  about  it." 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning,  Quincy  entered 
the  office  of  the  Isburn  Detective  Bureau. 

"  I  have  good  news  for  you,  Quincy,"  said 
Mary.  "  I  have  found  out  from  London  that 


264    THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Macquay  Hooker  is  a  banker  in  Rome,  and  I  have 
cabled  him,  asking  who  the  other  two  endorsers 
are.  We  should  receive  a  reply  by  noon  at  the 
latest." 

A  good  half  hour  before  noon  a  messenger  boy 
came  in  and  handed  Mary  an  envelope.  She 
scanned  the  cablegram  quickly,  and  handed  it  over 
to  Quincy.  It  read,  "  Tombini  banker,  Drake  Amer- 
ican consul,  Palermo,  Sicily." 

"  You  see,"  said  Mary,  with  a  smile,  "  matters 
are  simplifying  themselves  considerably.  I  shall 
cable  now  to  Drake  at  Palermo,  and  find  out 
what  I  can  about  the  original  signer  of  the  bill 
of  exchange.  This  is  Wednesday.  The  Gallia 
sails  from  here  to  England  on  Saturday.  You  had 
better  engage  passage,  and  make  arrangements  to 
go  then.  Come  back  late  this  afternoon,  and  I  will 
tell  you  what  has  developed  in  the  meantime." 

After  engaging  a  stateroom  for  Saturday,  Quincy 
returned  to  Cambridge,  packed  what  things  he 
needed  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  with  Tom  came 
back  to  Boston,  intending  to  go  to  Fernborough  on 
the  late  train  in  the  evening. 

"  The  answer  has  just  come,"  said  Mary,  when 
Quincy  saw  her  later  in  the  day,  "  but,  I  am 
sorry  it  is  not  as  satisfactory  as  I  could  wish.  Mr. 
Drake  is  away  from  Palermo  at  present,  and  beyond 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        265 

the  fact  that  a  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  had  registered 
at  the  consulate  about  a  month  ago  and  has  since  left 
the  town,  they  seem  to  know  nothing  about  the 
matter." 

"  Well,"  said  Quincy,  "  we  have  a  starting  point 
anyway,  and  more  than  we  had  in  Bob  Wood's  case 
in  the  beginning.  I  shall  go  directly  to  Fernbor- 
ough  Hall  to  see  my  mother  for  a  day  or  so,  but 
I  think  I  will  not  mention  the  real  reason  for  my 
trip  abroad  until  I  have  found  out  more.  I  will  tell 
her  that  Tom  and  I  are  anxious  to  get  to  the  con- 
tinent as  soon  as  possible,  and  that  we  will  return 
to  England  later  on.  Then  we  will  go  down 
through  Italy  to  Sicily,  and  start  in  there  tracing 
the  signer  of  that  bill  of  exchange." 

"  I  think  that  is  the  best  plan,"  said  Mary. 
"  In  the  meantime  I  will  keep  in  close  touch  with 
Mr.  Merry  here,  and  if  another  one  of  those  bills 
of  exchange  comes  in  I  will  cable  you,  care  of  your 
bankers  in  London,  the  names  of  the  endorsers." 

"  Mary,"  said  Quincy  as  he  took  her  hand  at 
parting,  and  held  it  perhaps  a  little  longer  than  was 
really  necessary,  "  I  can't  thank  you  for  all  you 
have  done  for  me.  I  am  truly  grateful,  and  wish 
there  were  some  way  in  which  I  could  show  you 
my  true  appreciation." 

"  Your  thanks  are  all  I  want.    Besides,  you  may 


266   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

be  the  means  of  bringing  a  very  clever  criminal  to 
justice,"  and  the  smile  left  her  face  as  she  said  it, 
"  for  I  am  afraid  that  is  all  you  will  find.  You 
must  not  hope  too  much  for  what  seems  the  im- 
possible." 

On  their  way  to  Fernborough  that  evening, 
Quincy  and  Tom  decided  it  would  be  best  not  to 
mention  the  real  object  of  their  going  to  Europe, 
so  Mr.  Chripp  thought  it  was  only  a  pleasure  trip. 
He  did  not  object  to  his  son  going,  —  but  he  made 
one  condition,  that  Tom  should  visit  the  village  in 
old  England  in  which  he  was  born  and  bring  him 
back  a  picture  of  the  little  thatched  cottage  in  which 
Mr.  Chripp  had  lived  until  the  tales  of  high  wages 
and  better  prospects  in  America  had  drawn  him 
from  his  native  land. 

Quincy  had  said  good-bye  to  all  his  relatives, 
friends,  and  acquaintances  except  Mr.  Obadiah 
Strout.  That  gentleman  should  have  no  reason  to 
say  he  had  been  snubbed. 

When  Quincy  entered  the  store  Mr.  Strout  was 
weighing  some  butter.  Quincy  noticed  that  the 
wooden  plate  and  a  sheet  of  thick  paper  were  put 
on  the  scales  before  the  butter  was  cut  from  the 
tub. 

"  Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Master  Sawyer?  " 
said  Strout  when  the  customer  who  had  paid  thirty 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        267 

cents  a  pound  for  butter  including  wood  and  paper 
had  departed. 

"  I  came  to  say  good-bye.  I  am  going  to  Eu- 
rope." 

"  I  s'pose  you'll  like  England  with  its  'ristocrats 
and  kings  so  well  that  you  won't  come  back  to  these 
ordinary  United  States." 

Quincy  knew  that  Mr.  Strout  wished  he  would 
stay  in  England,  so  he  replied, 

"  Oh,  no.  I'm  coming  back  sure.  I  know  a 
little  about  weighing  groceries  and  I've  decided  to 
come  back  and  go  into  business." 

"  What  good  will  your  book  larnin'  do  you 
then?" 

"  For  one  thing,  they  teach  something  besides 
dead  languages  in  colleges  nowadays.  I  studied 
moral  philosophy,  which  points  out  the  difference 
between  right  and  wrong,  between  honesty  and  dis- 
honesty, between  fifteen  ounces  of  butter  and  one 
ounce  of  wood  and  paper,  and  sixteen  ounces  of  but- 
ter to  the  pound." 

With  this  parting  shot,  Quincy  joined  Tom  in 
front  of  the  store  and  they  started  for  Boston,  from 
which  port  the  Gallia  was  to  sail  two  days  later. 


268      THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXII 
ALICE'S  DREAM 

"  Do  you  believe  in  dreams,  Aunt  Ella?  " 

"  No,  Alice,  I  do  not." 

"  Not  if  they  come  true?  " 

"  Only  a  coincidence.  If  they  don't  come  true 
are  you  willing  to  acknowledge  that  all  are  unre- 
liable? Or,  if  some  prove  true  do  you  consider 
them  all  reliable  ?  You  can  have  either  horn  of  the 
dilemma." 

"  What  causes  dreams,  Aunt  Ella  ?  " 

"  Usually  what's  on  your  mind.  Your  brain 
doesn't  wake  up  all  at  once  and  dreams  flit  through 
it  until  it  gets  full  control." 

"  What  if  a  person  dreams  the  same  thing  three 
nights  in  succession?  " 

"  That  proves  nothing.  When  my  first  husband 
died  I  dreamed  for  a  month  or  more  that  he  was 
still  alive  and  that  I  must  wake  him  at  a  certain 
time  because  the  morning  he  died  he  was  to  take 
a  train  at  an  early  hour.  You  make  your  own 
dreams." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        269 

"  But  supposing  you  see  something  in  your 
dreams  that  you  never  saw  before  —  that  you  never 
knew  existed  until  you  viewed  it  when  asleep?  " 

"  What  have  you  been  dreaming,  Alice?  " 

"  You  won't  laugh  at  me?  " 

"  I  promise  not  to  laugh,  but  I  won't  promise 
to  believe." 

"  If  my  husband  is  dead,"  said  Alice,  "  he  is  dead 
and  I  shall  never  see  him  again  in  this  world;  if 
he  is  still  living,  he  is  somewhere  in  this  world, 
and  it's  my  duty  to  find  him." 

"  I  will  agree  to  that,"  assented  her  hearer,  "  but 
you  know  that  I  have  no  faith  that  he  is  alive.  Just 
think,  twenty-three  years  have  passed  away  and 
you  have  had  no  word  from  him.  Out  of  deference 
to  your  feelings,  Alice,  I  had  put  off  making  my 
will  since  Sir  Stuart  died  until  yesterday.  It  is  now 
signed  and  in  my  lawyer's  hands.  It  is  no  secret, 
I  have  left  all  I  possess  to  your  son  Quincy." 

"Why  did  you  do  that?" 

"  I  promised  his  father  that  he  should  have  it, 
but  as  I  think  he  will  never  come  to  claim  it,  I  gave 
it  to  his  son,  as  he  or  you  would  do  if  it  was  yours. 
Now,  your  dreams  have  put  some  idea  into  your 
head.  Where  do  you  think  your  husband  is  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  country  it  is,  but,  in  my 
dreams,  thrice  repeated,  I  have  seen  him  standing 


270   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

in  a  grove  of  trees  filled  with  fruit  —  lemons  and 
oranges  they  appeared  to  be." 

"  Did  he  speak  to  you  or  you  to  him?  " 

"  He  looked  at  me  but  gave  no  sign  of  recogni- 
tion. I  called  his  name,  but  he  did  not  answer 
me." 

"  That  proves  what  I  said.  You  are  always 
thinking  about  him,  and  your  mind  made  up  your 
dream." 

"  Where  do  lemons  and  oranges  grow  ?  " 

"  In  so  many  countries  that  you  would  have  to 
go  round  the  world  to  visit  them  all."  She  thought 
to  herself,  "  they  don't  grow  in  the  ocean." 

"  You  speak  of  twenty-three  years  having  passed. 
That's  not  so  long.  I  have  read  of  sailors  being 
away  longer  than  that  and  finally  returning  home. 
Men  have  stayed  in  prison  longer  than  that  and  have 
come  out  into  the  world  again.  Why,  Quincy  is 
only  fifty-three  now." 

"  And  I'm  seventy  —  an  old  woman  some  think 
me,  and  others  call  me  so,  but  if  I  were  sure  that 
by  living  I  could  see  Quincy  again,  I'd  manage  some 
way  to  keep  alive  until  he  came." 

"  You  are  just  lovely,  Aunt  Ella,  and  I  love  you 
more  than  ever  for  those  words.  I  believe  that 
Quincy  wants  me  to  come  to  him  —  and  I  am  go- 
ing!" 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        271 

"  My  dear  Alice,  I'm  sure  the  only  way  you  will 
ever  see  Quincy  is  by  going  to  him,  for  he  can  never 
come  to  you." 

The  next  day  Alice  spent  in  studying  the  cyclo- 
pedias and  maps.  She  estimated  the  cost  of  a  six 
months'  trip  to  the  citron  groves  of  Europe  and 
America.  For  a  week  she  pondered  over  the  mat- 
ter. 

Then  something  occurred  that  led  her  to  make 
up  her  mind  definitely.  She  had  the  same  dream 
for  the  fourth  time.  She  awoke  screaming,  and 
shaking  with  terror.  Her  aunt  was  awakened  and 
ran  to  her  room. 

"  What  is  it,  Alice?    Dreaming  again?  " 

"  Yes,  the  same  and  yet  different.  I  saw  a  big 
man  raise  a  club  and  strike  Quincy  on  the  head. 
He  fell  and  I  awoke." 

Aunt  Ella  grew  cynical.  "  Why  didn't  you  wait 
long  enough  to  see  the  effect  of  the  blow  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Auntie,"  and  Alice  burst  into  tears. 
"\VhatshallI  do?" 

"  I  know  what  I'm  going  to  do.  I  shall  send  for 
Dr.  Parshefield  and  have  him  give  you  a  sleeping 
potion." 

The  next  day  Alice  began  making  preparations 
for  her  journey.  Aunt  Ella's  arguments  and  ap- 
peals were  in  vain. 


272   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  I  must  go,"  said  Alice.  "  Where,  I  do  not 
know,  but  God  will  direct  me." 

"  God  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  exclaimed 
Aunt  Ella, 

Her  patience  was  exhausted.  Then  her  manner 
changed.  She  accepted  the  inevitable,  and  did  all 
she  could  to  help  her  niece.  One  thing  she  insisted 
upon,  and  that  was  that  Alice  should  have  a  com- 
panion. One  who  could  speak  French  and  German 
was  found  and  Alice  started  upon  her  quest  into, 
to  her,  unknown  lands. 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        273 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

"  BY  THE  BEAUTIFUL  BLUE  DANUBE  " 

ALICE  did  not  tell  Aunt  Ella  where  she  was  go- 
ing. To  have  done  so  would  have  led  her  aunt  to 
say  that  it  was  foolish  to  go  there,  for  although 
she  aided  Alice  in  getting  ready  for  her  journey  she 
was  decidedly  opposed  to  it.  In  fact,  in  her  own 
mind  she  called  it  "  a  wild  goose  chase."  But  she 
had  learned  that  Alice  had  an  indomitable  will  and 
she  fully  realized  that  further  argument  and  oppo- 
sition were  useless. 

Alice  went  on  board  the  boat  at  Dover  with  some 
foreboding.  She  had  read  and  had  been  told  of 
the  rigours  of  the  Channel  passage  and  her  ex- 
perience was  equal  to  the  descriptions.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  presence  of  Babette,  the  maid  so  wisely 
provided  by  her  aunt,  her  journey  might  have  ended 
at  Calais,  or  even  before.  She  had  a  horror  of  the 
water  and  it  was  with  a  sense  of  great  mental  and 
physical  satisfaction  that  her  feet  touched  solid 
ground  again. 


274   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

They  went  to  Paris,  but  spent  no  time  in  the  gay 
city.  Their  objective  point  was  the  south  of  Italy, 
and  then  the  island  of  Sicily.  Did  not  the  guide 
books  say  that  Sicily  was  the  home  of  the  orange 
and  the  lemon  ? 

They  would  stop  a  short  time  in  each  important 
town.  Carriages  were  taken  from  day  to  day  and 
inquiry  was  made  at  the  principal  groves  in  the  near 
vicinity  of  the  towns.  Then  trips  were  made  into 
the  country,  but  everywhere  Alice's  questions  were 
answered  in  the  negative.  She  was  allowed  to  talk 
to  the  labourers,  by  the  aid  of  an  interpreter,  but 
none  had  any  remembrance  or  had  heard  of  any 
such  man  as  she  described. 

At  only  one  grove,  near  Palermo,  was  she  refused 
admittance.  The  proprietor,  Silvio  Matrosa,  said 
he  had  no  authority  to  admit  strangers.  Besides, 
two  of  the  men  had  been  fighting  and  one  was  so 
seriously  injured  by  a  blow  upon  his  head  by  a  club, 
that  he  had  been  sent  to  the  hospital  and  it  was 
thought  he  would  die.  Under  the  circumstances 
"Would  the  ladies  excuse  him?"  and  Alice  was 
obliged  to  give  up  her  search  in  that  direction. 

She  had  been  so  impressed  with  the  reality  of 
her  dreams  that  she  had  thought  she  could  easily 
recognize  her  husband's  surroundings,  but  she  con- 
fessed to  Babette,  who  was  sympathetic  and  engaged 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        275 

eagerly  in  the  search,  that  she  had  seen  no  place 
that  resembled  the  scene  of  her  dreams. 

More  weary  wandering  without  result  followed, 
and  so  intent  was  she  on  the  object  of  her  search 
that  the  beauties  of  "  Sunny  Italy  "  were  lost  upon 
her.  The  weather  was  hot  and  enervating  and 
Babette  suggested  that  her  mistress  should  go  to 
Switzerland  and  rest  before  continuing  her  search. 
Alice  consented,  but  when  they  reached  Vienna  she 
was  too  ill  to  proceed  farther.  Babette  was  at  home 
in  Vienna  for  she  could  speak  German,  and  she 
soon  learned  that  the  Hospital  of  St.  Stephen's 
would  give  her  mistress  the  rest  and  medical  treat- 
ment that  her  condition  required  —  for  she  was  on 
the  verge  of  nervous  prostration.  The  discomfort 
of  travelling  was  not  the  cause  of  her  physical 
break-down  for  Aunt  Ella  had  told  her  "  that  noth- 
ing was  too  good  for  a  traveller  "and  every  com- 
fort and  convenience  that  money  could  supply  had 
been  hers.  Her  mental  disquietude  had  produced 
the  physical  relapse.  She  had  been  so  confident  of 
the  truth  of  her  dreams,  and  that  some  power,  she 
knew  not  what,  but  which  she  trusted  implicitly, 
would  lead  her  to  her  husband,  that  her  disappoint- 
ment was  more  than  her  strained  nervous  system 
could  bear. 

After  a  week's  rest,  although  unable  to  rise,  she 


276   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

called  Babette  to  her  bedside.     "  I  wish  to  send 
word  to  my  aunt  in  England  but  I  do  not  feel  able 
to  sit  up  and  write.     I  will  dictate,  you  can  write, 
and  I  will  sign  it." 
Then  Babette  wrote: 

"  MY  DEAR  AUNT  ELLA  :  Confession,  they  say, 
is  good  for  the  soul.  My  body  is  weak  to-day  and 
so  Babette  is  writing  my  confession.  I  have  been 
to  Sicily  and  all  over  the  southern  part  of  Italy, 
but  no  success  has  come  to  me.  If  Quincy  had  been 
in  one  of  those  orange  or  lemon  groves  he  could 
not  have  lived  there  for  so  many  years;  the  work 
is  too  hard,  and  he  was  never  used  to  manual  labour. 
So,  as  soon  as  I  am  able,  I  am  coming  home.  I  will 
never  trouble  you  with  any  more- dreams.  I  believe, 
as  you  do,  that  they  are  products  of  imagination. 
I  am  not  sick,  only  tired  out,  and  naturally,  at  first, 
very  much  disheartened.  I  shall  be  with  you  very 
soon,  never  more  to  leave  you.  "  ALICE. 

"  P.  S.  As  soon  as  I  am  able  to  take  a  drive  I 
am  going  to  view  the  attractions  of  this  city  — 
which  Babette  says  is  even  more  beautiful  than 
Paris.  I  must  see  '  The  Beautiful  Blue  Danube/ 
and  I  must  hear  Johann  Strauss's  orchestra.  They 
will  be  the  only  happy  memories  of  my  fruitless 
journey." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        277 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

"  WE   THREE  " 

NOTHING  marred  the  pleasure  of  the  trip  on 
the  Gallia  and  young  Quincy  and  Tom  could  not 
have  been  happier  than  they  were  when  the  great 
steamer  made  its  way  up  the  Mersey  towards  its 
Liverpool  pier. 

A  few  hours  only  in  the  great  bustling  city  and 
then  they  were  off  to  find  the  house  in  which  Tom's 
father  was  born  and  lived.  It  was  near  Chester, 
that  modernized  reminder  of  the  old  Roman  days, 
and  on  their  way  to  Fernborough  Hall. 

They  found  it  uninhabited.  The  thatched  roof 
was  full  of  holes  and  the  interior  showed  the  devas- 
tation that  wind  and  water  had  worked.  Tall  weeds 
filled  the  little  garden  and  the  general  effect  was 
dismal  indeed. 

"  It  won't  do  to  take  Dad  a  picture  of  this  old 
shanty,"  said  Tom. 

"  Perhaps  we  can  find  a  house  that  looks  like  it," 
Quincy  suggested* 


278   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

They  had  no  difficulty  in  doing  that,  for  the 
same  architectural  plan,  if  the  design  be  worthy  the 
name,  had  plainly  been  followed  in  the  construction 
of  many  cottages.  They  found  one  with  the  roof 
covered  with  moss  and  a  garden  full  of  old-fash- 
ioned flowers,  and  several  views  were  taken  with 
Quincy's  camera. 

"  It's  cheating  in  one  way,"  said  Tom,  "  but  it 
would  break  Dad's  heart  to  see  a  picture  of  his  old 
home  as  it  really  is  —  so  we'll  show  him  one  as  it 
ought  to  be." 

"  And  as  it  shall  be,"  said  Quhicy.  "  It  won't 
cost  much  to  fix  it  up,  all  but  the  moss,  and  that 
will  come  on  it  in  time.  You  get  a  man,  Tom,  find 
out  the  cost  of  renovating  the  house,  and  I'll  pay  the 
bill.  So  will  the  sense  of  untruth  fulness  be  removed 
from  our  sensitive  feelings."  This  was  quickly  ar- 
ranged, for  work,  with  the  pay  in  advance,  was  a 
delectable  possession  in  those  parts. 

When  they  reached  Fernborough  Hall,  and 
Quincy  was  told  of  the  search  on  which  his  mother 
had  started  out,  he  pretended  to  agree  with  his  aunt 
that  it  was  useless,  and  the  height  of  folly,  but  from 
that  moment  hope  sprang  up  within  him,  that,  by 
some  miracle,  his  father  was  still  alive.  He  did  not 
confide  his  hopes  to  Aunt  Ella,  and  gave  her  no 
inkling  of  the  real  reason  for  his  trip  to  Europe. 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        279 

"  It  would  make  me  very  happy  to  know  that  my 
father  was  living,"  he  said,  "  but  after  so  long"  a 
time  it  seems  foolish  to  think  it,  does  it  not?  When 
do  you  expect  mother  home,  Aunt  Ella?  " 

"  The  letter  was  written  a  month  ago  from 
Vienna,  but,  unfortunately,  she  did  not  give  her  ad- 
dress. If  she  were  well,  she  should  have  been  here 
before  this.  I  have  an  idea  that  she  may  have  gone 
to  Switzerland  on  her  way  home,  and  charmed  by 
its  scenery,  or  forced  by  her  weak  condition,  has 
remained  there.  Stay  here  for  a  week  with  your 
friend,  and  perhaps  some  word  will  come." 

"  No,  Auntie,"  said  Quincy,  "  Tom  and  I  will 
run  over  to  Vienna,  and  if  we  don't  find  her  we  will 
push  on  to  William  Tell's  republic.  We  will  write 
you  often  —  Tom  one  day  and  I  the  next." 

"  I  have  often  wondered,"  said  Quincy  to  Tom 
two  days  later  as  they  were  on  the  cars  speeding  to 
Vienna  —  "I  have  often  wondered,"  he  repeated, 
"how  my  mother  could  let  me  go  away  and  stay 
away  from  her  for  fourteen  long  years.  That  she 
loves  me,  her  letters  show  plainly.  She  says  often 
that  I  am  all  she  has  in  the  world,  but  she  never 
sent  for  me  to  come  and  see  her  nor  did  she  ever 
come  to  see  me.  How  do  you  explain  it,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Very  easily.  That  disaster  at  sea  and  the  loss 
of  your  father  has  given  her  a  horror  of  the  ocean 


280   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

which  she  cannot  overcome.  She  fears  to  trust  her- 
self or  one  she  loves  to  its  mercies  again.  Perhaps 
we  can't  understand  her  feelings,  but  you  must 
respect  them." 

"  I  do,"  replied  Quincy.  "  I  have  never  doubted 
her  love  for  me,  and  your  theory,  perhaps,  explains 
her  failure  to  manifest  her  love  more  forcibly." 

On  the  train  they  made  a  most  agreeable  ac- 
quaintance and  regretted  their  inability  to  accept 
his  invitation  to  visit  him.  His  name  was  Louis 
Wallingford.  He  was  an  American,  born  in  Mis- 
souri. He  had  been  a  reporter,  then  editor.  His 
passion  was  music  and  he  had  forsaken  a  literary 
life  for  that  of  a  musician.  He  had  joined  an  or- 
chestra much  in'  dt.  /and  at  private  parties  given 
by  the  wealthy  residents  of  St.  Louis.  At  one  of 
these,  he  had  become  infatuated  with  the  daughter 
of  a  railroad  magnate  who  counted  his  wealth  by 
millions.  A  poor  violinist,  he  knew  it  was  useless 
to  ask  her  father  for  his  daughter's  hand.  The 
young  lady's  mother  was  dead.  The  father  died 
suddenly  of  apoplexy,  and  Miss  Edith  Winser 
came  into  possession  of  the  millions.  Then  he  had 
spoken  and  been  accepted.  Conscious  that  her  hus- 
band, talented  as  he  was,  would  not  be  accepted, 
without  a  hard  struggle,  by  the  upper  class,  they 
decided  to  live  in  Europe. 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        281 

He  had  found  a  deserted  chateau  on  the  borders 
of  Lake  Maggiore.  Money  bought  it,  and  money 
had  transformed  it  into  an  earthly  Paradise.  The 
building,  of  white  marble,  was  adapted  for  classic 
treatment,  and  Greek  and  Roman  art  were  symbol- 
ized therein. 

The  chateau  contained  a  large  music  room 
and  a  miniature  theatre  in  which  Mr.  Walling- 
ford's  musical  compositions  and  operas  were  per- 
formed. 

"  I  have  just  come  from  Paris,"  said  Mr.  Wal- 
ling ford,  "  where  I  have  made  arrangements  for 
six  concerts  by  my  orchestra  which  will  play  many 
of  my  own  pieces.  Can  you  not  be  in  Paris  in  a 
month  and  hear  them?  " 

"  Tell  him  your  story,"  whispered  Tom  to 
Quincy,  and  he  did  so. 

Mr.  Wallingford  was  deeply  interested. 

"If  you  find  both  your  father  and  mother,  they 
deserve  another  honeymoon.  Bring  them  to  Ver- 
tano  and  in  the  joys  of  the  present  we  will  make 
them  forget  the  sorrows  of  the  past." 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Quincy,  "that  such  good 
fortune  would  be  more  than  miraculous." 

"  Come  with  your  mother  and  friend  then," 
said  Mr.  Wallingford  a^.  he  left  them  to  change 
cars. 


282   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

They  went  to  the  Hotel  Metropole  in  Vienna. 
Quincy  consulted  his  guide  book. 

"  Everybody  lives  in  apartment  houses  in  Vienna, 
so  this  book  says.  The  question  is,  in  which  one 
shall  we  find  my  mother  and  her  maid?  " 

"  All  we  can  do/'  said  Tom,  "  is  to  plug  away 
every  day.  Keep  a-going,  keep  asking  questions, 
keep  our  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  keep  up  our  cour- 
age." 

"  Your  plan  is  certainly  '  for  keeps/  as  we  chil- 
dren used  to  say.  Come  along.  Your  plan  is 
adopted.  Have  you  written  Lady  Fernborough? 
'Tis  your  turn." 

Many  days  of  fruitless  travel  and  the  young  men 
began  to  despair  of  success.  Quincy  was  debating 
with  himself  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  give 
up  the  search  for  his  mother,  and  follow  up  the 
clue  about  his  father.  He  felt  that  every  day  was 
precious. 

"  I  have  an  idea,  Quincy,"  Tom  said  one  morn- 
ing. "  Perhaps  your  mother  is  quite  sick  and  has 
gone  to  a  public  hospital  or  a  private  one  of  some 
kind." 

"  That's  a  fine  idea,  Tom.  We'll  begin  on  them 
after  breakfast." 

The  sharp  reports  of  gun  shots  and  the  softer 
cracking  of  pistols  were  heard. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        283 

"  What's  that?  "  cried  Quincy. 

"  Some  men  are  on  a  strike.  They  had  trouble 
with  the  police  last  night  and  this  morning's  paper 
says  the  strikers  have  thrown  up  barricades.  Prob- 
ably the  police  and  soldiers  are  trying  to  dislodge 
them." 

The  firing  continued,  and  from  their  windows 
the  soldiers  and  people  could  be  seen  moving 
towards  the  scene  of  disturbance. 

"  Let's  go  out  and  see  what  is  going  on/'  said 
Quincy. 

"  Let's  stay  in  and  keep  out  of  trouble,"  was 
Tom's  reply.  "  It  is  the  innocent  bystander  who 
always  gets  shot." 

"I'm  going  down  to  the  office  to  find  out  about 
it,"  and  Quincy  took  his  hat  and  left  the  room. 

Tom  was  suspicious  of  his  intentions  and  fol- 
lowed him.  Quincy  had  left  the  hotel  and  was 
walking  rapidly  towards  the  scene  of  disturbance. 
Tom  ran  after  him,  and  kept  him  in  sight,  but  did 
not  speak  to  him.  At  first  he  felt  offended  that 
Quincy  had  not  asked  him  to  go  with  him.  Then 
he  reflected :  "  I  virtually  told  him  in  advance  that 
I  wouldn't  go.  He's  his  own  master." 

They  were  nearing  a  street  from  which  came  the 
sounds  of  conflict  —  loud  cries,  curses,  and  the  re- 
ports of  firearms.  Tom  ram  forward  to  prevent 


284   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Quincy  from  turning  into  the  street.  He  was  too 
late  —  Quincy  had  turned  the  corner.  Tom,  re- 
gardless of  danger,  followed  him.  He  started  back 
with  a  cry  of  horror.  Quincy  had  been  shot  and 
was  lying  upon  the  sidewalk,  the  blood  streaming 
from  a  gun-shot  wound  in  his  right  arm.  Tom 
took  him  up  in  his  arms,  as  though  he  had  been  a 
child,  and  returned  to  the  safety  of  the  unexposed 
street. 

As  he  lay  Quincy  upon  the  sidewalk  and  took 
out  his  handkerchief  to  make  a  tourniquet  with 
which  to  stanch  the  flow  of  blood,  he  cried :  "  Oh, 
Quincy,  why  did  you  walk  right  into  danger  ?  " 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  a  man  who  was  standing 
nearby,  whose  dress  and  swarthy  face  proclaimed 
him  to  be  a  foreigner,  stepped  forward  and  grasped 
Tom  roughly  by  the  arm. 

"  What  did  you  call  that  young  man,"  asked  the 
stranger,  his  voice  trembling,  perceptibly. 

"  I  called  him  by  his  name  —  Quincy." 

"  Quincy  what  ?  Pardon  me,  but  I  have  a  reason 
for  asking." 

"  His  name  is  no  secret,"  said  Tom,  as  he  twisted 
the  handkerchief  tightly  above  the  wound.  "  I 
can't  understand  your  interest  in  him,  but  his  name 
is  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer." 

"  Thank  Heaven,"  exclaimed  the  man.     "  And 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        285 

thank  you,"  he  added,  grasping  Tom's  hand  — 
"Is  he  English?" 

"  No,  we're  both  Yankees,  from  Fernborough, 
Massachusetts." 

The  man  knelt  beside  Quincy  and  gazed  at  him 
earnestly.  He  looked  up  at  Tom. 

"  I  could  bless  the  man  who  fired  that  shot.  My 
name  is  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  and  this  young  man 
is  my  son !  " 

Tom's  surmise  had  been  correct.  Alice  did  not 
improve  and  a  long  stay  at  the  Hospital  became 
necessary  before  the  return  to  England  would  be 
possible. 

"  What's  that  noise,  Babette?  "  asked  Alice. 

"  There  must  be  a  riot  somewhere,"  was  the 
reply.  "  The  soldiers  are  marching  past.  They  are 
fighting  in  a  street  nearby." 

Alice  said  no  more.  What  had  she  to  do  with 
fighting  and  bloodshed?  Her  suffering  was  greater 
than  any  bullet  could  inflict.  She  fell  into  a  doze 
from  which  she  was  awakened  by  a  loud  cry  from 
Babette. 

"  Oh,  Madame,  a  carriage  has  just  stopped  here, 
and  they  are  bringing  a  wounded  man  into  the 
Hospital.  There  are  two  men  with  him  —  one 
looks  like  an  Englishman  or  American." 


286   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Go  down,  Babette,  and  see  if  you  can  find  out 
who  they  are.  I  should  be  glad  if  I  could  be  of 
help  to  one  of  my  own  countrymen." 

It  seemed  a  very  long  time  before  the  maid  re- 
turned. When  she  did,  the  usually  self-confident 
Babette  seemed  dazed.  She  did  not  speak  until 
her  mistress  asked : 

"  Did  you  find  out  anything?  " 

"  Yes-,  Madame." 

"What?" 

"  They  are  all  Americans,  Madame.  A  young 
man  and  his  friend;  the  older  man  is  the  fa- 
ther." 

"  The  companion's  ?  " 

"  No,  the  young  man's." 

"  Did  you  learn  their  names  or  where  they  are 
from?" 

Babette  sank  upon  her  knees  by  the  bedside. 

"  Oh,  Madame,  I  am  so  happy." 

Alice  regarded  her  with  astonishment. 

"  Happy !  Happy  because  a  young  man  has 
been  shot.  You  must  have  a  bloodthirsty  nature, 
Babette." 

"  It  isn't  the  shooting,  Madame.     It's  the  name." 

"The  name?  What  name?  You  are  nervous, 
Babette.  You  must  lie  down  and  rest.  I  keep  you 
up  too  late  nights  reading  and  writing." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        287 

"  Oh,  Madame,  how  can  I  say  it?  Can  you  bear 
it?" 

"  I  have  borne  suspense  for  twenty-three  years. 
I  can  bear  much.  What  is  it  you  would  tell  me?  " 

"  You  know,  Madame,  I  said  the  older  man  was 
the  young  man's  father.  They  both  have  the  same 
name." 

"  That's  not  uncommon,  especially  in  America, 
The  young  man  is  called  Junior.  Sometimes  when 
they  are  very  proud  of  a  family  name  they  number 
them.  Supposing  my  husband  were  living,  and  my 
son  had  a  son,  named  after  himself,  the  little  boy 
would  be  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  3rd." 

"  Madame,  I  must  tell  you.  The  father  and  the 
son  bear  the  name  of  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer !  " 

Alice  regarded  her  as  if  affrighted.  Then  she 
leaped  from  the  bed  and  cried :  "  Bring  me  my 
clothes,  Babette.  My  husband  and  son !  We  three, 
brought  together  by  the  hand  of  God  once  more." 

The  revulsion  was  too  great.  The  pent-up  agony 
of  twenty-three  years  dissolved  in  a  moment.  Alice 
fainted  and  fell  into  Babette's  arms. 


288       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXV 

A   PERIOD  OF   TWENTY  -  THREE   YEARS 

IT  took  hours  for  the  overjoyed  wife  and  mother 
and  the  long-lost  husband  and  father  to  tell  their 
stories.  Alice's  was  told  first,  and  was  followed 
by  young  Quincy's  recital  of  his  life  at  Fernbor- 
ough,  his  four  years  at  Harvard,  and  the  story 
of  the  returned  bill  of  exchange  leading  him  to  Eu- 
rope, and  his  search  for  his  mother  in  Vienna  which 
ended  with  such  happiness  for  all.  Finally,  the 
father  began : 

"  On  the  night  of  the  collision,  after  seeing  you 
safely  started  in  the  life-boat  with  the  last  of  the 
passengers,  Captain  Hawkins  thought  of  a  small 
boat  on  the  upper  deck  which  had  been  overlooked 
in  the  general  scramble  to  get  away  from  the 
doomed  Altonia.  Shouting  to  me  to  follow  him, 
the  Captain  rushed  up  the  ladder  to  the  railing, 
and  together  we  started  to  lower  the  boat.  It  was 
raised  about  three  feet  above  the  deck,  being  held 
in  position  by  two  supports  shaped  like  a  letter  X. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       289 

I  had  already  loosened  the  ropes  on  my  side,  and 
then  tried  to  kick  out  the  support  nearest  me.  It 
stuck,  and  finally  I  got  down  on  my  hands  and  knees 
thinking  I  could  force  it  out  better  in  that  position. 
The  water  was  steadily  pouring  in  at  the  ship's 
side,  and  it  was  only  a  question  of  a  few  minutes 
before  the  Altonia  would  founder.  Finally  I  gave 
one  mighty  push,  the  support  gave  away,  the  boat 
came  down  upon  me  like  a  ton  weight,  —  and  that 
was  the  last  I  knew  until  I  awoke  in  a  large 
room  full  of  single  beds,  and  a  kindly  faced  old 
priest  told  me  I  was  in  the  Hospital  of  San  Marco, 
Palermo,  Sicily. 

"  My  God,  the  shock  when  I  found  that  my  sleep, 
—  for  such  it  was  to  me,  —  had  lasted  over  twenty- 
three  years!  What  thoughts  went  through  my 
mind!  Had  you,  Alice,  been  saved  or  lost?  If 
saved,  were  you  still  living,  and  my  son,  whom  I 
had  never  seen,  was  he  living?  Were  Aunt  Ella 
and  my  father  and  mother  and  my  sisters  still  alive? 
I  was  roused  from  my  revery  by  the  good  Father 
Paolo. 

"  He  told  me  that  the  week  before  he  had  been 
summoned  to  the  death-bed  of  an  old  seaman,  Cap- 
tain Van  do,  who  had  confessed  that  over  twenty 
years  before,  while  sailing  from  Boston  to  Palermo, 
two  days  after  a  very  bad  fog,  he  had  picked  up 


290   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

at  sea  a  small  open  boat  in  which  were  two  men, 
both  of  whom  at  first  seemed  dead.  One,  it  was 
Captain  Hawkins,  was  beyond  all  help;  he  was 
frozen  to  death,  —  frozen  to  death,  Alice,  in  an 
effort  to  save  my  life,  for,  besides  my  own  coat,  his 
was  found  tucked  around  me. 

"  After  hours  of  work,  I  was  brought  back  to  life, 
—  but  a  life  worse  than  death.  The  Captain  told 
Father  Paolo  that  my  mind  was  a  blank,  I  could 
remember  nothing  of  my  past,  I  did  not  know  my 
name.  Then  temptation  came  to  Captain  Vando. 
He  took  from  me  my  belt,  in  which  I  had  some 
English  gold,  a  few  English  bank-notes,  and  the 
five  bills  of  exchange,  each  for  a  thousand  pounds. 
The  latter  he  did  not  dare  to  dispose  of,  but  the 
money  he  appropriated  to  his  own  use.  He  soon) 
found  I  could  be  of  no  use  to  him  on  ship-board, 
so,  on  his  arrival  at  Palermo,  he  sold  me  to  a  rich 
planter,  for  a  hundred  lire,  and  I  was  put  to  work 
in  the  orange  groves. 

"  Captain  Vando  in  his  confession  told  Father 
Paolo  that  he  still  had  my  belt  containing  the  bills 
of  exchange,  and  before  his  death  he  delivered  these 
over  to  the  priest.  After  the  Captain's  death,  Father 
Paolo  went  to  Signor  Matrosa,  who,  when  con- 
fronted with  the  facts,  admitted  I  had  been  sold  to 
him,  and  that  I  was  known  under  the  name  of  Ales- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       291 

sandro  Nondra,  but  he  told  him  that  I  had  been 
mixed  up  in  a  fight,  and  had  received  such  a  bad 
wound  that  I  had  been  sent  to  the  hospital.  One 
of  his  managers,  an  Italian,  had  married  an  English 
girl,  and  they  had  a  daughter  with  light  hair,  and 
blue  eyes.  It  seems  I  had  been  sent  to  his  house 
one  day  with  a  message,  and  when  I  saw  his  daugh- 
ter, I  cried  out,  '  Alice,  Alice/  and  caught  the  girl 
in  my  arms.  Her  father  was  so  enraged  that  he 
picked  up  a  gun  lying  near  at  hand,  and  gave 
me  such  a  terrific  blow  on  the  head  that  I  was 
knocked  senseless.  I  remember  nothing  of  ft,  but 
mistaking  Anita  for  you  was,  undoubtedly,  my  first 
approach  to  my  former  consciousness.  That  scene 
was  probably  the  one  which  you  saw  in  your  dream, 
Alice,  and  to  think  that  afterwards  you  should  be 
so  near  me  in  Palermo,  and  neither  of  us  know  it! 

"  At  the  hospital  the  doctors  found  that  the  blow 
on  my  head  had  caused  but  a  comparatively  unim-- 
portant  scalp  wound,  but,  in  dressing  it,  they  found 
that  at  some  earlier  time  my  skull  had  been  crushed. 
They  performed  the  delicate  operation  of  trepan- 
ning the  skull,  and  when  I  came  out  from  the  effects 
of  the  ether,  my  mind  was  in  the  same  state  as  it 
had  been  twenty-three  years  before. 

"  After  that  my  recovery  was  rapid.  Father 
Paolo  made  Signor  Matrosa  pay  me  thirty-three 


292   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

hundred  lire  as  my  wages  for  the  many  years  I  had 
worked  for  him,  and  I  gave  a  thousand  of  it  to  the 
manager's  daughter,  to  whom,  in  a  way,  I  owed  my 
return  to  my  natural  self.  The  rest  I  gave  to  Father 
Paolo  for  the  use  of  his  church. 

"  Luckily,  in  my  belt  that  Captain  Vando  had 
appropriated  was  my  passport.  I  went  to  the  United 
States  consul  at  Palermo,  Mr.  Drake,  had  the  pass- 
port vised,  and  got  him  to  cash  one  of  the  bills  of 
exchange  for  me.  Suddenly,  one  day,  the  thought 
came  into  my  mind,  had  you,  Alice,  thinking  me 
dead,  married  again?  I  decided  to  find  out  before 
the  announcement  of  my  return  to  the  land  of  the 
living  could  be  spread  broadcast,  and  I  persuaded 
Mr.  Drake  to  keep  back  the  information  from  his 
official  report  for  a  while,  at  least.  This  he  was  able 
to  do  easily,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  going  away 
for  a  vacation  of  a  few  .months,  and  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  consulate  knew  very  little  of  my  case. 

"  I  decided  to  continue  bearing  the  name  of  Ales- 
sandro  Nondra  for  a  while,  at  least,  and  I  knew  I 
could  make  a  living  in  some  way  when  my  present 
funds  were  exhausted.  How  I  regretted  the  cash- 
ing of  that  bill  of  exchange,  because  I  knew  it  would 
eventually  lead  to  my  discovery;  but  I  was  so 
changed,  with  my  iron-gray  hair,  and  Van  Dyke 
beard,  that  I  felt  I  could  escape  detection  until  I 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       293 

knew    whether    my;   wife   still    waited    for   me   or 
not. 

"  I  decided  to  make  my  way  north  to  Ostend, 
and  would  cross  from  there  to  England,  where  I 
felt  sure  I  could  find  some  news  of  you,  or  Aunt 
Ella.  I  stopped  off  here  in  Vienna  for  a  day  or  two. 
When  I  heard  my  son  called  by  name  this  morning* 
I  could  not  resist,  and  instead  of  finding  my  son 
alone,  I  have  also  found  his  mother,  my  wife." 


294       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

"  CATESSA  " 

QUINCY  gloried  in  his  wife's  faith  and  constancy. 
Alice,  while  she  rejoiced  in  her  husband's  return 
bewailed  his  lost  opportunities. 

"  Think  what  you  have  lost,  Quincy.  You  might 
have  been  President." 

"  If  I  have  escaped  that  I  shall  not  regret  my 
long  imprisonment." 

"  Why,  Quincy,  would  you  have  refused  a  nomi- 
nation?" 

"  Many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen.  I  have 
never  cherished  any  such  ambition,  I  am  not  in  love 
with  politics  and  I  detest  the  average  politician. 
Our  country  produces  few  statesmen  and  it  never 
will  until  the  civil  service  law  is  made  applicable  to 
legislators  and  to  high  officials.  We  have  much  to 
learn  from  China  in  this  respect." 

Telegrams  had  been  sent  to  Aunt  Ella  and  Mr. 
Wallingford  apprising  them  of  the  happy  reunion. 
From  the  latter  came  a  message  extending  a  hearty 
invitation  to  come  to  Vertano. 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER        295 

Young  Quincy's  wound  though  painful,  and  par- 
ticularly uncomfortable,  was  not  serious.  Tom  was 
his  constant  companion  and  attendant  while  Ouincy 
passed  nearly  all  his  time  with  his  wife.  She  im- 
proved rapidly  and  their  departure  was  delayed  only 
until  young  Quincy's  wound  was  healed. 

"  You  now  have  a  longer  name  than  ever,"  his 
mother  said  to  him  one  day. 

"  How's  that?  It's  too  long  now.  What  must  be 
added?" 

"  Why,  now  that  your  father  is  alive,  you  are 
Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior." 

"  I  am  more  than  willing  to  make  the  addition, 
mother,  and  hope  it  will  be  many  years  before  I  am 
obliged  to  shorten  it." 

When  they  reached  Vertano  but  three  days  re- 
mained before  the  departure  of  Mr.  Wallingford 
and  his  orchestra  for  Paris,  but  during  that  time 
there  were  drives  through  the  beautiful  country, 
boat  rides  upon  the  lake,  rehearsals  by  the  orchestra 
and  the  performance  of  an  operetta  written  by  Mr. 
Wallingford  in  which  he,  his  wife,  and  seven  chil- 
dren took  part. 

"  Shall  we  go  to  Paris  ?  "  asked  Alice. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Quincy.  "  We  owe  Mr.  Wal- 
lingford the  return  courtesy  of  our  attendance  at  his 
six  concerts." 


296   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Tlhe  trip  across  the  channel  did  not  possess  so 
many  terrors  for  Alice  with  her  husband  and  son 
for  company,  but  she  was  glad  when  they  stepped 
upon  land  at  Dover. 

"  I  shall  never  love  the  water,"  she  said. 

They  reached  London  in  the  afternoon  too  late 
to  take  the  train  for  Heathfield  in  which  town  Fern- 
borough  Hall  was  situated.  A  telegram  was  sent  to 
Aunt  Ella  informing  her  of  their  safe  arrival  in 
London,  and  that  they  would  be  with  her  the  next 
day. 

"  What  can  I  do  to  amuse  you  this  evening, 
Alice?" 

"  Sit  down  and  let  me  look  at  you,  I  have  so  much 
time  to  make  up." 

"  They  give  Martha  at  the  opera  to-night  —  it  is 
my  favourite  —  full  of  the  sweetest  melodies  in 
which  I  substitute  Alice  for  Martha.  Quincy  and 
Tom  would  like  to  go,  and  I  have  another  reason 
which  I  will  tell  you  after  the  first  act." 

Alice's  curiosity  was  aroused  and  she  expressed 
her  desire  to  go.  After  the  first  act,  Alice  turned  an 
inquisitive  face  to  her  husband. 

"  What  was  your  other  reason  for  coming  here 
to-night?" 

"  Don't  you  think  Catessa  is  a  fine  tenor  ?  " 


OP  QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       297 

"He  has  the  most  beautiful  voice  I  ever  heard/' 
Alice  replied. 

"  I  know  him.  He  is  an  old  friend  of  mine.  I'm 
going  behind  the  scenes  to  congratulate  him  person- 
ally." 

"  Did  you  meet  him  in  Italy  ?  " 

"  No  —  in  Fernborough,  Massachusetts." 

"  Why,  Quincy,  what  do  you  mean?  There  were 
no  Italians  in  Fernborough." 

"  He  is  not  an  Italian.  He's  a  Yankee.  Look  at 
his  name." 

"  That's  Italian  surely." 

"  It's  only  his  Yankee  name  transposed.  Aren't 
you  good  on  anagrams  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I'm  not.    Please  tell  me." 

"  Do  you  remember  a  young  man  in  Fernborough 
with  consumption  whom  I  sent  to  a  sanatorium  in 
New  York?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Scates." 

"  You've  hit  it.  Mr.  Arthur  Scates,  or  A.  Scates 
for  short.  Now  look  at  that  Italian  name  again." 

"  I  am  doing  so,  and  it  looks  just  as  foreign  as 
ever." 

"  Agreed,  but  Catessa  contains  just  the  same  let- 
ters as  A.  Scates,  only  they  are  arranged  differ- 
ently." 

After  the  second  act,  Quincy  visited  Mr.  Scates 


298   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

in  his  dressing1  room.  The  tenor  insisted  on  Quincy 
and  his  party  taking  supper  with  him  at  his  hotel 
after  the  opera.  He  offered  to  repay  the  cost  of  his 
treatment  with  interest. 

"  No,"  said  Quincy,  "  I  do  not  need  it,  and  will 
not  take  it.  Use  it  to  help  some  poor  artist." 

It  was  one  o'clock  when  Quincy  and  his  party 
reached  their  hotel. 

"Did  you  enjoy  yourself,  Alice?" 

"  I  had  a  delightful  evening.  But  how  happy  you 
must  feel  to  know  that  your  money  saved  such  a 
precious  life." 

"  I  do,"  said  he.  "  Good  deeds  always  bring  their 
reward.  See  what  I  got  —  twenty-three  years  hard 
labour  in  an  orange  grove." 

"  Hush,  Quincy.  There  is  no  possible  connection 
between  the  two  events." 

"  I  disagree  with  you.  I  think  I  am  the  connec- 
tion, but  I  don't  really  think  one  caused  the  other." 

"  I  should  say  not.     You  are  not  often  cynical." 

"  I  am  not,  dear.  Only  when  one  does  a  good 
deed  he  must  not  expect  to  be  repaid  in  exactly  his 
own  coin." 

"  Did  Mr.  Scates  offer  to  repay  you  ?  " 

"  He  did,  and  I  told  him  to  give  it  to  some  poor 
fellow  who  needed  it." 

"  Quincy,  I  don't  know  which  to  admire  most. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       299 

Your  good  heartedness,  or  your  ability  to  make  one 
sum  of  money  perform  many  good  actions." 

The  home  coming  to  Fernborough  Hall  was  a  sad 
contrast  to  the  pleasure  of  the  evening  before.  They 
found  Aunt  Ella  in  bed  with  two  doctors  in  attend- 
ance. Though  weak,  and  failing  fast  there  was  no 
diminution  of  her  mental  powers.  She  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  Quincy  alone. 

"  Quincy,  your  wife's  faith  has  made  a  new 
woman  of  me.  I  have  always  wished  to  live  for 
ever,  I  had  such  a  fear  of  death  and  uncertainty 
as  to  the  future.  My  fears  are  all  gone. 

"  The  same  Power  that  put  me  in  this  world  and 
has  given  me  so  many  blessings,  with  some  sorrows, 
so  that  I  would  properly  appreciate  the  blessings, 
will  take  care  of  me  in  the  next.  I  have  never  been 
a  wicked  woman,  but  often  a  foolish  one.  The 
most  foolish  thing  I  have  ever  done  was  to  doubt 
the  faith  your  wife  had  that  you  were  still  alive. 
She's  an  angel. 

"  Give  me  a  sup  of  that  wine,  Quincy,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  I  haven't  smoked  a  cigarette  since  I  prom- 
ised Alice  I  wouldn't.  Wasn't  that  self-denial? 
Now,  there's  a  very  important  matter  that  needs 
attention.  I  told  you  when  you  married  Alice  that 
when  I  died  you  should  have  everything.  Don't  in- 


300   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

terrupt  me.  Believing  you  were  dead  I  made  a  new 
will  and  left  everything  to  your  son." 

She  drew  a  paper  from  under  the  bedclothes. 

"  Here  it  is.  Burn  it  up.  The  other  one  is  in  the 
hands  of  my  solicitor  in  London." 

Quincy  laid  the  will  upon  the  bed. 

"  Aunt  Ella,  I  shall  not  burn  the  will  nor  destroy 
it.  I  am  satisfied  with  the  disposition  of  your  for- 
tune. I  should  have  been  equally  well  satisfied  if 
you  had  possessed  other  heirs.  But,  did  you  leave 
your  property  to  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  Jun- 
ior ?  " 

Aunt  Ella's  eyes  snapped  with  some  of  their  old 
fire. 

"  I've  got  it  right.  I  have  described  my  heir  so 
carefully  that  there  can  be  no  mistake.  Don't  you 
imagine  that  there  is  a  chance  for  you  to  break  my 
will." 

There  was  a  smile  on  her  face  as  she  spoke,  and 
Quincy  smiled  to  show  that  he  did  not  misunder- 
stand her  pleasantry.  As  he  turned  to  go,  Aunt 
Ella  called : 

"Quincy!" 

He  approached  the  bed  again. 

"  Another  sip  of  that  wine.  I  always  liked  wine 
—  but  not  too  much  of  it." 

She  beckoned  to  him  to  come  nearer.    "  Quincy, 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER       301 

I  want  you,  before  you  go  away  to  have  the  fish 
cleared  out  of  the  lake.  Stuart  wouldn't  let  me  do 
it,  and  since  he  died  I  have  kept  them  as  a  tribute 
to  his  memory.  He  said  to  me,  when  the  name  dies 
out,  let  the  fish  die  too.  The  name  is  near  death, 
and  the  fish  must  go.  Now,  send  Alice  to  me." 

When  she  came,  she  bent  over  and  kissed  her 
aunt  tenderly. 

"  Alice,  I  wish  you  were  going  with  me.  You 
know  what  I  mean,  dear.  I  hope  you  will  have  long 
life  and  great  happiness  to  make  up  for  what  you've 
gone  through.  You  have  your  husband  back  again. 
I  am  going  to  mine,  Robert  and  Stuart. .  There  is 
no  marriage  or  giving  in  marriage  there  —  only 
love.  Quincy  is  going  to  look  after  the  fish  in  the 
lake." 

Aunt  Ella  lingered  for  a  week,  then  passed  quietly 
away  while  asleep.  She  was  laid  beside  Sir  Stuart 
in  the  family  vault,  and  the  name  Fernborough  lived 
only  as  that  of  a  little  country  town  in  New  Eng- 
land. 

At  the  funeral  Quincy  met  his  sister  Florence  who 
looked  upon  him  as  one  raised  from  the  dead. 

"  I  did  not  forget  you,  Quincy,  for  my  first-born 
bears  your  name." 

Linda,  Countess  of  Sussex,  came  with  her  hus- 
band the  Earl,  and  her  daughter,  the  Lady  Alice 


302       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

Hastings,  a  tall,  statuesque  blonde,  in  her  twenty- 
eighth  year. 

"  I've  something  wonderful  to  tell  you,"  said  the 
Countess  to  Quincy  and  his  wife.  "  My  daughter 
is  soon  to  be  married,  but  not  to  one  of  our  set.  Her 
choice  has  fallen  upon  Mr,  John  Langdon,  an  Ameri- 
can. He's  very  wealthy,  and  is  coming  to  England 
to  live.  Isn't  that  romantic  —  so  out  of  the  usual." 

"  America  loses  every  time,"  said  Quincy. 
"  First  our  girls  and  their  father's  money,  and  now 
our  men  and  their  money.  In  time,  England  will 
form  part  of  the  great  American  nation," 

"  You  mean,"  said  the  Countess,  "  the  great  Eng- 
lish-speaking nation,"  and  Quincy  bowed  in  accept- 
ance of  the  amendment. 

The  probating  of  the  will,  making  arrangement 
for  the  sale  of  Fernborough  Hall,  and  providing  for 
the  payment  of  the  proceeds  and  annual  income  to 
Quincy  Jr.  caused  a  long  delay,  for  English  law 
moves  but  little  faster  than  it  did  when  Jarndyce 
brought  suit  against  Jarndyce. 

Quincy  Jr.  and  Tom  were  thrown  on  their  own 
resources  during  the  long  wait.  London  was  their 
resort,  and,  to  them,  Scotland  Yard  and  its  detect- 
ives, the  most  interesting  part  of  the  city. 

When  the  party  finally  embarked,  by  a  coinci- 
dence, it  was  on  the  Gallia  which  had  brought  young 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       303 

Quincy  and  his  companion  to  England  seven  months 
before. 

No  storms  or  heavy  fogs  were  met  upon  the  way, 
and  the  party  was  landed  safely  in  New  York. 


304       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

O.    STROUT.      FINE    GROCERIES 

DURING  the  summer  that  the  foregoing  events 
were  happening  in  Europe,  Mr.  Hiram  Maxwell,  in 
the  little  New  England  town  of  Fernborough  had  a 
serious  accident  happen  to  himself  the  effects  of 
which  were  far  reaching,  and  finally  affected  many 
people. 

In  unloading  a  barrel  of  sugar  from  a  wagon,  it 
slipped  from  the  skid  and  fell  upon  his  leg  causing 
a  compound  fracture.  He  was  taken  home,  but 
when  the  doctor  was  called  he  advised  his  immedi- 
ate removal  to  the  Isaac  Pettingill  Free  Hospital 
for  he  was  afraid  an  amputation  would  be  necessary. 
Unfortunately,  his  fears  proved  to  be  true,  and 
Hiram's  right  leg  was  amputated  just  below  the 
knee. 

"  That  Hiram's  an  unlucky  cuss,"  said  Mr. 
Strout  to  his  hearers  one  evening  at  the  grocery. 
"  But  think  of  me.  This  is  our  busy  season  and 
with  everything  piled  onto  me  I'm  just  about  tuck- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       305 

ered  out.  What  help  will  he  be  stumbling  around  on 
crutches  ?  " 

"Can't  he  have  a  wooden  leg?"  asked  Abner 
Stiles. 

"  Yes,  of  course  he  can.  An'  if  you  lost  your 
head  and  got  a  wooden  one  in  its  place  you'd  be 
just  as  well  off  as  you  are  now." 

This  remark  caused  a  laugh  at  Abner  which  he 
took  good-naturedly.  When  Mr.  Strout  was  out  of 
sorts  he  always  vented  his  spleen  on  somebody. 

"  Well,"  said  Benoni  Hill,  "  I'm  awful  sorry  for 
Hiram  with  a  wife  and  children  to  support.  Of 
course  his  pay  will  go  right  on,  bein'  as  he's  a 
partner." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Strout.  "  That's 
for  the  trustees  to  decide,  and  I've  got  to  decide 
whether  I'll  do  two  men's  work  for  one  man's 
pay." 

"  He  would  for  you,"  Abner  blurted  out. 

"  If  you  think  so  much  of  him,  why  don't  you 
come  in  and  do  his  work  for  him?"  said  Strout. 

"  When  you  were  going  to  buy  this  store,  an<i 
Mr.  Sawyer  got  ahead  of  yer,  yer  promised  me  a 
job  here  as  pay  for  some  special  nosin'  round  I'd 
done  f er  yer  —  but  when  yer  got  in  the  saddle  you 
forgot  the  feller  who'd  boosted  yer  up.  When  a 
man  breaks  his  word  to  me  onct  he  don't  do  it  a 


306   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

second  time.  That's  why,"  and  Abner  went  out 
and  slammed  the  door  after  him. 

Mr.  Strout  was  angry,  and  when  in  that  state  of 
mind  he  was  often  lacking  in  prudence  in  speech. 

"  That  comes  of  turning  a  place  of  business  into 
a  resort  for  loafers.  If  I  owned  this  store  outright 
there'd  be  a  big  sign  up  somewhere — "  When  you've 
transacted  your  business,  think  of  Home  Sweet 
Home." 

"  I  reckon  that's  a  hint,"  said  Benoni  Hill,  as  he 
arose  and  put  on  his  hat.  "  You  won't  be  troubled 
with  me  or  my  trade  in  futur'.  There  are  stores  in 
Cottonton  jus'  as  good  as  this,  and  the  proprietors 
are  gentlemen." 

He  left  the  store,  and  one  by  one  the  "  loafers  " 
followed  him  as  no  one  had  the  courage  to  break 
the  silence  that  fell  upon  the  company  after  old  Mr. 
Hill's  departure. 

Mr.  Strout,  left  alone  to  close  up  the  store,  was 
more  angry  than  ever. 

"  What  cussed  fools.  I  was  hitting  back  at  Ab- 
ner and  they  thought  the  coat  fit  and  put  it  on. 
They'll  come  round  again.  They  won't  enjoy 
tramping  over  to  Cottonton  for  kerosene  and 
molasses." 

The  store  was  lighted  by  kerosene  lamps  resting 
on  brackets.  It  was  Mr.  Strout's  custom  to  take 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       307 

them  down,  blow  them  out,  and  replace  them  on  the 
brackets.  One  was  always  left  burning,  as  Mr. 
Strout  said  "  so  burglars  could  see  their  way  round." 

Mr.  Strout's  anger  rose  higher  and  higher  and 
there  was  no  one  present  upon  whom  he  could  ex- 
pend it.  He  grasped  one  of  the  lamps,  but  his  hold 
on  the  glass  handle  was  insecure  and  it  fell  to  the 
floor,  the  lamp  breaking,  while  the  burning  oil  was 
thrown  in  every  direction.  He  wished  then  that 
some  of  the  "  loafers  "  were  present  to  help  him  put 
the  fire  out.  There  was  no  water  nearer  than  the 
pump  in  the  back  yard.  He  grabbed  a  pail  and 
started  to  get  some  water.  He  forgot  the  back 
steps  and  fell  headlong.  For  some  minutes  he  was 
so  dazed  that  he  could  do  nothing.  The  glare  of  the 
fire  lighted  up  the  yard,  or  he  would  have  had  diffi- 
culty in  filling  the  pail.  When  he  returned,  he  saw 
that  the  fire  was  beyond  his  control.  He  could  not 
go  through  the  store,  so  he  climbed  the  back  yard 
fence  and  made  his  way  to  the  front  of  the  store 
crying  "  Fire  "  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

It  seemed  an  age  to  him,  before  anyone  responded. 
He  felt  then  the  need  of  friends,  neighbours  —  even 
"  loafers  "  would  have  been  acceptable. 

A  bucket  brigade  formed,  but  their  efforts  were 
unavailing.  As  the  other  lamps  were  exploded  by 
the  heat  new  inflammable  material  was  thrown 


308   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

about.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  whole  interior 
was  in  flames,  and  in  an  hour  only  a  grim,  black 
skeleton,  lighted  up  by  occasional  flashes  of  flame, 
remained  of  Strout  and  Maxwell's  grocery  store. 

Next  morning  comment  was  rife.  Mr.  Strout 
had  told  how  the  fire  was  caused  but  there  were  un- 
believers. 

"  I  think  the  cuss  set  it  on  fire  himself,"  said 
Abner  Stiles  to  his  employer,  Mr.  Ezekiel  Pettingill. 

"  Be  careful,  Abner,"  was  the  caution  given  him. 
"  It  don't  do  to  accuse  a  man  of  anything  'less  you 
have  proof,  an'  your  thinkin'  so  ain't  proof." 

Mr.  Strout  went  to  Boston  to  see  the  trustees. 
The  insurance  was  adjusted  and  Mr.  Strout  was 
authorized  to  proceed  with  the  re-building  at  once. 
During  the  interim  orders  were  filled  from  the  Mont- 
rose  store.  Fortunately,  the  stable  and  wagon  shed 
were  some  distance  from  the  store,  and  had  not  been 
in  danger. 

The  new  store  was  larger  than  the  old  one,  and 
many  improvements,  in  Mr.  Strout's  opinion,  were 
incorporated  in  the  new  structure.  He  ordered  the 
new  sign.  When  it  was  put  up,  the  whole  town, 
including  the  "  loafers  "  were  present.  "  I  s'pose 
he  fixed  it  with  the  trustees  "  said  Benoni  Hill  to 
Abner  Stiles. 

"  Danged  if  I  think  so,"  was  the  reply.     "  He's 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       309 

allers  been  meaner'n  dirt  to  Hiram,  an'  has  allers 
wanted  to  git  him  out.  Burnin'  up  the  store  giv' 
him  his  chance." 

"  You  mean  the  store  burnin'  up,"  corrected 
Benoni. 

"  I  dunno.  The  Bible  says  God  works  in  a  mys- 
terious way  his  wonders  to  perform,  an'  so  do  some 
individooals." 

One  noon  after  dinner,  Mr.  Strout  said  to  his 
wife.  "  Bessie,  put  on  your  things  an'  come  down 
to  the  new  store.  I  want  to  show  you  somethin'." 

"And  leave  the  dishes?" 

"  You  can  bring  'em  with  you  if  you  want  to," 
her  husband  replied. 

When  they  reached  the  store,  upon  which  the 
painters  were  at  work,  he  pointed  to  the  new  sign. 

"  See  that?    Read  it  out  loud." 

Mrs.  Strout  complied : 

"O.    STROUT.      FINE   GROCERIES." 

"What  did  I  tell  yer?"  was  his  only  comment. 


310       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

THE    HOME    COMING 

QUINCY  desired  to  have  his  return  to  America 
unheralded  by  items  in  the  newspapers  of  stories  of 
his  wonderful  rescue,  captivity,  and  final  recovery 
of  his  reason,  so  when  he  booked  for  passage  on  the 
Gallia  he  gave  the  name  of  Mr.  S.  Adams,  wife 
and  son. 

During  the  homeward  voyage  the  father  and  son 
had  an  opportunity  to  become  acquainted.  The 
father  told  the  story  of  his  life  at  Mason's  Corner; 
first  going  back  to  his  college  days.  He  told  his  son 
how  he  had  opposed  his  father's  wish  that  he  would 
become  a  lawyer  and  sustain  the  reputation  of  the 
old  firm  of  Sawyer,  Crowninshield,  and  Lawrence; 
about  his  health  breaking  down  and  his  visit  to 
Mason's  Corner ;  about  the  blind  girl  whom  he  had 
made  his  wife,  and  how  he  had  secured  medical 
assistance  and  her  sight  had  been  restored.  Once 
again  he  lived  over  his  life  in  the  country  town, 
and  told  about  his  friends  and  foes  —  Obadiah 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       311 

Strout  and  Bob  Wood  —  who  were  enemies  no 
longer,  and  honest,  good-hearted  'Zeke  Pettingill, 
and  his  sweet  wife,  little  Huldah  Mason.  And 
Hiram  who  stammered  so  and  Mandy  who  didn't. 
Nearly  all  the  people  mentioned  in  their  long  talks 
were  well  known  to  young  Quincy  and  after  his 
father  had  finished  his  reminiscences  the  young 
man  supplied  the  sequel. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Strout?  "  asked  the 
father. 

"Think?  I  know  he's  a  dishonest  man.  You 
say  that  you  parted  friends.  He  is  no  friend  of 
yours  or  mine." 

Then  he  told  of  his  encounter  with  young  Bob 
Wood. 

"  I  had  some  trouble  with  his  father  many  years 
ago,"  said  Quincy.  "  What  did  he  do  to  you?  " 

"  Nothing  to  me.  He  insulted  a  young  lady,  and 
I  took  her  part.  Tom  was  going  to  help  me  but  I 
arranged  to  handle  him,  in  a  very  unscientific  way 
though." 

"  It  was  a  rough  and  tumble  of  the  worst  sort," 
interjected  Tom.  "  I  was  afraid  they'd  bite  each 
other  before  they  got  through." 

"  Quincy,"  said  his  father,  "  you  must  take  box- 
ing lessons.  When  occasion  requires,  it  is  the 
gentleman's  weapon." 


312   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

The  mention  of  Mary  Dana  naturally  led  to  a 
rehearsal  of  the  Wood  case,  and  all  Mary  had  done 
in  helping  Quincy  at  the  beginning  of  the  search 
for  his  father. 

"  I  think  I  see  which  way  the  wind  blows," 
laughed  his  father,  while  Quincy  blushed  to  the  roots 
of  his  hair,  "  and  I  want  to  meet  the  young  lady 
who  did  so  much  to  bring  us  all  together  again." 

Alice  was  proud  of  her  son.  He  resembled  her, 
having  light  hair  and  blue  eyes;  a  decided  contrast 
to  his  father  whose  skin  had  been  darkened  by 
Italian  suns,  who  had  dark  eyes,  dark  hair  frosted 
at  the  ends,  and  a  heavy  beard,  cut  in  Van  Dyke 
fashion.  Few,  if  any,  would  have  recognized  in  him 
the  young  man  who  more  than  twenty-three  years 
before  had  taken  passage  on  the  Altonla,  looking 
forward  to  a  pleasant  trip  and  an  early  return  to 
his  native  land. 

Alice  explained  to  her  son  her  apparent  lack  of 
affection  for  him  in  allowing  him  to  be  separated 
from  her  so  long. 

"  I  knew  you  were  with  your  relatives  and  good 
friends,  Quincy.  In  my  nervous,  depressed  state  I 
was  poor  company  for  a  young,  healthy  boy.  Then, 
I  had  such  a  fear  of  the  ocean  I  dared  not  go  to  you 
and  was  afraid  to  have  you  come  to  me.  Can  you 
forgive  me?" 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       313 

"  My  darling  mother,"  said  young  Quincy, 
"  what  you  did  turned  out  for  the  best.  I  have  been 
educated  as  an  American  and  that  fully  atones  for 
my  apparent  neglect.  Your  beautiful  letters  kept 
you  always  in  my  mind,  and  I  used  to  take  great 
pleasure  in  telling  my  schoolmates  what  a  pretty 
mother  I  had." 

Alice,  despite  her  years,  blushed. 

"  Quincy,  you  are  like  your  father  in  praising 
those  you  love." 

Tom  gave  Quincy's  father  graphic  descriptions  of 
the  changes  in  Fernborough  and  fully  endorsed  his 
friend's  opinion  of  Mr.  Strout. 

"  He's  a  snake  in  the  grass,"  said  Tom.  "  He'd 
pat  you  on  the  back  with  one  hand  and  cut  your 
throat,  figuratively  speaking,  with  the  other." 

"  Do  you  think  he'd  recognize  me  ? "  asked 
Quincy. 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Tom.  "  His  perceptive  pow- 
ers are  not  strong.  He's  sub-acute  rather  than 
'cute." 

Quincy  and  Alice  sat  for  hours  looking  out  upon 
the  wide  expanse  of  ocean,  and  at  the  blue  sky  above 
them.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  so  many  years 
had  passed  since  they  were  together.  Memory  is  a 
great  friend.  It  bridged  the  great  gap  in  their  lives. 
They  were  lovers  as  of  yore,  and  would  be  always. 


314   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

They  did  not  hesitate  to  talk  of  the  cruel  past  —  not 
sadly,  for  were  they  not  in  the  happy  present? 

Said  Alice  one  morning,  "  While  you  were  gone  I 
was  in  a  terribly  nervous  condition.  Aunt  Ella 
said  that  I  must  have  something  to  employ  my  mind 

—  and  I  wrote,  or  tried  to  write.     I  couldn't  keep 
my  mind  on  one  thing  long  enough  to  write  a  story, 
but  I  have  collected  the  material  for  one,  and  now 
that  I  am  happy  once  more,  when  we  have  settled 
down,  I  am  going  to  write  it." 

"What's  the  title,  or,  rather,  the  subject?"  her 
husband  inquired. 

"  Oh,  it  opens  with  a  ship-wreck  —  not  a  collision 
but  a  fire  was  the  cause.  Among  the  passengers  are 
many  children  —  of  high  and  low  degree  —  and 
they  get  mixed  up  —  fall  into  wrong  persons'  hands, 

—  fathers  and  mothers  are  lost  and  cannot  claim 
them,  and  their  future  lives  have  supplied  me  with 
the  strongest  and  most  intricate  and  exciting  plot 
that  I  have  ever  constructed." 

"  Which  is  the  '  star  '  child?  " 

"  He  is  the  son  of  a  Russian  Grand  Duke  —  the 
offspring  of  a  morganatic  marriage  —  his  mother 
is  driven  from  the  country  by  order  of  the  Czar. 
The  title  is  The  Son  of  Sergius" 

They  did  not  remain  in  New  York  but  took  the 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       315 

first  train  for  Boston.  They  were  driven  to  the 
Mount  Vernon  Street  house. 

"  I  knew  you  were  coming,"  cried  Maude,  as  she 
ran  eagerly  down  the  steps  to  meet  them. 

"  Who  has  turned  traitor?  I  pledged  them  all 
to  secrecy,"  cried  Quincy. 

"  Harry  told  me,  and  I  had  a  cablegram  from 
Florence." 

"  Did  she  use  my  name?  If  so,  we  are  undone 
and  the  reporters  will  swarm  like  bees." 

"  You  are  safe,"  said  Maude.  "  The  message 
read :  Brother  found.  Keep  quiet." 

Tom  was  prevailed  upon  to  remain  in  Boston 
until  Quincy  could  go  to  Fernborough.  At  supper 
they  were  introduced  to  Maude's  family. 

"  Six  of  them,"  said  Quincy.  "  I  am  uncle  to  a 
numerous  extent.  Maude,  what  are  all  their  names 
—  the  girls  first." 

"This  is  Sarah,  named  after  mother;  Ella  for 
Aunt  Ella,  and  little  Maude  for  her  mother." 

"Good!    Now  the  boys." 

"  Stuart  —  the  old  gentleman  was  so  nice  to 
Harry  and  me  when  we  were  on  our  wedding  tour  — 
Nat  for  father,  and  Harry  —  " 

"  Thank  Heaven  —  no  Quincy.  That  name  was 
becoming  contagious.  I  am  glad,  Maude,  that  you 


316   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

were  wise  and  kept  the  epidemic  out  of  your 
family." 

That  evening  Quincy  and  Mr.  Merry  talked  about 
business  matters.  Harry  told  of  Hiram's  accident 
and  the  destruction  of  the  store  by  fire. 

"  There's  something  funny  about  it,"  said  Harry. 
"  We  authorized  Mr.  Strout  to  rebuild  and  restock 
at  once,  and  we  hear  that  he  has  done  so,  but  he  has 
not  called  on  us  for  a  dollar,  nor  has  he  sent  up  any 
bills  for  payment." 

"  I  wish  you  would  send  a  telegram  to  Mr.  Eze- 
kiel  Pettingill  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning 
asking  him  to  come  to  the  city  —  say  important 
business." 

About  three  o'clock  Ezekiel  arrived  at  the  office 
of  Sawyer,  Crown inshield,  Lawrence  and  Merry. 
He  was  shown  into  what  had  been  the  late  Hon. 
Nathaniel's  private  office,  and  came  face  to  face 
with  Quincy. 

"  I'm  heartily  glad  to  see  you  again,"  he  ex- 
claimed as  he  wrung  Quincy's  helpless  hand  after 
the  first  surprise  of  the  meeting.  "  Huldy'll  be  de- 
lighted too.  You  must  come  down  and  tell  us  all 
about  it.  Just  to  think  —  more'n  twenty  years  — 
but  you're  looking  well." 

Quincy  assured  him  that  his  health  was  never 
better. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       317 

"  What  I  wanted  to  see  you  about  are  affairs  in 
Fernborough.  What  is  Strout  up  to  ?  " 

"  You've  used  just  the  right  word.  He's  up  to 
something.  He's  got  up  a  sign  —  O.  Strout,  Fine 
Groceries  —  an'  says  Hiram's  out  of  the  firm,  and 
that  he  owns  the  whole  business." 

Quincy  smiled.  "  So,  I've  got  to  fight  it  out  with 
him  again,  have  I?  Well  it  will  be  the  final  con- 
flict. To  use  Mr.  Strout's  words,  one  or  the  other 
of  us  will  have  to  leave  town.  You  aren't  going 
back  to-night?" 

"  Oh,  I  must." 

"  Well,  come  up  to  the  house  first  and  see  Alice, 
and  the  boy.  We'll  gD  down  to-morrow." 


318       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

THE    FINAL   CONFLICT 

WHEN  Tom  Chripp  showed  his  father  the  photo- 
graph of  the  house  in  which  he  was  born,  he  burst 
into  tears. 

"  Just  as  pretty  as  ever,"  he  exclaimed.  "  The 
roof's  been  mended,  beent  it,  and  just  the  same 
flowers  all  around  it  as  when  I  was  a  boy.  Tom, 
I'm  glad  to  see  you  back  safe  and  sound  —  but 
that  picter  —  Tom,  when  I  die,  you  just  put  that 
picter  in  the  coffin  with  me,  won't  you?  I  want 
your  grandfather  to  see  that  the  old  place  was 
looked  after  when  he  was  gone." 

Tom  promised. 

A  dark  featured,  dark  haired  man  entered  Mr. 
Stroufs  store.  The  proprietor  knew  he  was  a 
stranger  —  perhaps  just  moved  into  town,  and  a 
prospective  customer. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you?  "  he  inquired  blandly, 
for  he  was  capable  of  being  affable. 


OF  QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       319 

"  I  am  looking  for  Mr.  Hiram  Maxwell." 

"  He  ain't  here  no  more." 

"  But  he's  your  partner,  isn't  he?  " 

"  Didn't  you  read  my  sign  ?  There  ain't  no 
partner  on  it." 

"  There  ought  to  be." 

Mr.  Strout  looked  at  the  stranger  with  astonish- 
ment. Then  he  laughed,  and,  with  a  remembrance 
of  Mr.  Richard  Ricker,  asked  sneeringly: 

"  What  asylum  did  you  come  from?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  stranger.  "  I 
used  to  know  Mr.  Maxwell,  and  they  told  me  in  the 
city  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  firm  of  Strout 
and  Maxwell." 

"Who  told  ye?" 

"  The  trustees  of  the  estate  of  Mr.  Sawyer.  Mr. 
Quincy  Adams  Sawyer.  Did  you  know  him?" 

"  I  never  knew  any  good  of  him.  So  they  told 
yer,  did  they?  That  shows  how  much  attention 
they  give  to  business.  The  old  store  was  burned  up 
and  that  busted  the  firm.  This  store's  mine  from 
cellar  to  chimney." 

"  The  old  firm  must  have  paid  you  well." 

"  Pretty  well  —  but  I  made  my  money  in  State 
Street,  speculating  and  I'm  well  fixed." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that  you've  prospered.  I  wish 
my  friend  Maxwell  had  been  as  fortunate.  What 


320   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

became  of  his  interest  and  Mr.  Sawyer's  in  the 
store  ?  " 

"  Went  up  in  smoke,  didn't  I  tell  yer?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  stranger  again. 
"  But  doesn't  your  store  stand  on  land  belonging  to 
the  old  firm?" 

Strout  squinted  at  the  stranger.  "  I  guess  you're 
a  lawyer  lookin'  for  points,  but  you're  on  the  wrong 
track.  You  won't  get  'em." 

"  I'm  not  a  lawyer,  Mr.  Strout.  I  only  inquired 
thinking  my  friend  Mr.  Maxwell  might  —  " 

"  Well,  he  won't,"  said  Strout.  "  Mr.  Quincy 
Adams  Sawyer  cheated  me  out  of  one  store  but  he 
can't  drive  me  out  of  this.  He  thought  he  was 
awful  smart,  but  when  he  bought  the  store  he  didn't 
buy  the  land.  It  belonged  to  the  town.  I'm  one  of 
the  selectmen,  and  one  of  the  assessors  found  it  out 
and  told  me,  and  I  bought  it  —  an'  this  store  an' 
way  up  to  the  sky,  and  the  land  way  down  to  China 
belongs  to  O.  Strout." 

"  I  am  much  obliged,  Mr.  Strout,  for  your  court- 
esy —  only  one  more  question  and  then  I'll  try  and 
find  my  friend  Mr.  Maxwell  —  if  somebody  will  be 
kind  enough  to  tell  me  where  he  is." 

"  You  didn't  ask  where  he  was.  If  you  want  to 
know  he's  up  to  the  Hospital.  He's  had  his  leg  off, 
an'll  have  to  walk  on  crutches." 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       321 

"  So  bad  as  that,  —  I'm  very  sorry,"  said  the 
stranger. 

"  I've  got  to  put  up  some  orders  —  see  that 
sign  ?  "  and  he  pointed  to  one  which  read : 

"  When  You've  transacted  your  Business,  Think 
of  Home,  Sweet  Home."  f 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Strout,  for  taking  so 
much  of  your  valuable  time.  Do  you  know  whether 
Mr.  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  is  in  town?" 

Strout  laughed  scornfully.  "In  town?  That's 
good.  Why,  man,  he's  been  dead  more'n  twenty 
years  —  food  for  fishes,  if  they'd  eat  him,  which  I 
doubt.  He's  left  a  boy,  same  name,  that  used  to  go 
to  school  here,  but,  thank  Heaven,  he's  got  lots  of 
money,  and  probably  won't  trouble  us  any  more. 
Perhaps  he's  the  one  you  want." 

"  Are  you  sure  the  boy's  father  is  dead  ?  I  saw 
him  in  Boston  yesterday." 

"  I  don't  take  any  stock  in  any  such  nonsense. 
This  ain't  the  days  of  miracles." 

"  I  saw  him  in  this  town  this  morning." 

"Where?"  gasped  Strout. 

"  Right  here.  That's  my  name,  Quincy  Adams 
Sawyer.  Do  you  want  me  to  identify  myself?" 
He  stepped  back,  puckered  up  his  mouth,  and  began 
whistling  "  Listen  to  the  Mocking  Bird." 

Strout  was  both  startled  and  mad.     "  Just  like 


322   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

you  to  come  spyin'  round.  You  allers  was  a  med- 
dler, an'  underhanded.  But  now  you  know  the 
truth,  what  "are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

Quincy  walked  to  the  door.  "  Well,  Mr.  S trout, 
I'm  going  to  put  it  about  as  you  did  when  I  first 
came  to  Mason's  Corner.  Either  you  or  I  have  got 
to  leave  town.  This  is  our  last  fight,  and  I'm  going 
to  win." 

He  left  the  store  quickly  and  made  his  way  to 
where  Ezekiel  was  waiting  for  him  with  the  carry- 
all. 

"  Now,  'Zeke,  we'll  go  to  the  Hospital  and  see 
poor  Hiram." 

They  found  him  hobbling  about  on  crutches  in 
the  grounds  of  the  Hospital. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here,  Hiram?"  was 
Quincy's  first  question. 

"  About  twelve  weeks.  You  see,  besides  break- 
ing my  leg  I  cracked  my  knee  pan  an'  that's  made 
it  wuss." 

"  We'll  fix  you  up  very  soon.  I'll  get  you  an 
artificial  leg  from  New  York.  You'll  be  able  to 
walk  all  right  but  you  mustn't  do  any  heavy 
lifting." 

"  Guess  I  shan't  have  no  chance  to  lift  anything1 
now  Strout's  got  the  store." 

"  Don't  worry  about  that,  Hiram.     There  are 


"  *  JUST  LIKE  YOU  TO  COME  SPY1N*  ROUND.       YOU    ALLERS 
WAS  A    MEDDLER.'  " 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       323 

towns  that  have  two  stores  in  them.  How's 
Mandy  ?  " 

"  Gettin'  along  all  right.  Mr.  Pettingill,  there, 
sends  a  man  over  to  help  her,  and  Mrs.  Crowley 
is  as  good  as  two  any  day." 

"  Don't  worry,  Hiram.  You'll  come  out  on  top 
yet." 

"If  I  do,  'twill  be  because  you'll  put  me  there,  I 
reckon." 

As  they  were  driving  back  'Zekiel  asked  Quincy 
if  he  knew  Mrs.  Hawkins  was  going  to  sell  out. 

"  No,  why.    Getting  too  old?  " 

"  No,  she's  as  spry  as  a  cat,  and  she's  seventy  odd. 
That  ain't  the  reason.  Jonas  is  dead." 

"  What  was  the  matter?" 

"  Chickens." 

"What  — overeating?" 

"  No,  somebody  stole  his  chickens.  So  he 
arranged  a  gun  with  a  spring  and  he  must  have 
forgotten  it." 

"  He  didn't  '  kalkilate  '  on  its  hitting  him?  " 

"  Guess  not.  Mrs.  Hawkins  says  she's  too  old 
to  marry  agin,  and  she  can't  run  the  house  with- 
out a  man  she  can  trust." 

"  Let's  stop  and  see  her." 

When  they  entered,  Mrs.  Hawkins  threw  up  her 
hands.  "  Lord  a  Massy !  I  heerd  at  the  store 


324   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

all  about  you  comin'  back,  but  where  on  airth  did 
you  come  from?  They  said  you  was  dead  an'  here 
you  are  as  handsome  as  ever.  How's  your  wife,  an' 
that  boy  o'  yourn?  " 

"  Both  well,  I'm  happy  to  say.  'Zeke  tells  me  you 
want  to  sell  out." 

"  Yes.  Now  Jonas  has  gone  there's  nobody  to 
take  care  of  the  chickens,  an'  a  hotel  'thout  chickens 
an'  fresh  eggs  is  no  home  for  a  hungry  man." 

"  What  will  you  take  for  the  place  just  as  it 
stands?" 

"  Well,  I've  figured  up  an'  I  should  lose  money 
ef  I  took  less'n  four  thousand  dollars,  an'  I  ought 
to  have  five." 

"  I'll  take  the  refusal  of  it  for  forty-eight  hours 
at  five  thousand.  Is  it  agreed  ?  " 

"  I'd  hold  it  a  month  for  you,  Mister  Sawyer, 
but  I  want  to  go  and  help  Mandy  soon's  I  can 
now  that  Hiram's  laid  up  for  nobody  knows  how 
long." 

"  We'll  have  Hiram  on  his  feet  again  very  soon, 
Mrs.  Hawkins.  I'll  be  down  again  in  a  few  days." 

"  Give  my  love  to  Alice,"  she  called  after  them 
as  they  were  driving  away. 

The  next  evening  Quincy  asked  his  son  to  come  to 
the  library  with  him. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       325 

"  Ouincy,  I  want  to  borrow  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  Can  you  spare  it?  " 

"  Twice  as  much  if  you  need  it.  I'll  give  it  to 
you.  It's  yours  anyway." 

"  No,  I  want  to  borrow  it  at  six  per  cent." 

"  Are  you  going  into  business  ?  " 

"  Yes."  Then  Ouincy  told  him  of  his  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Strout. 

"  How  are  you  going  to  beat  him?  "  asked  young 
Quincy. 

"  I'll  tell  you.  I'm  going  to  buy  the  Hawkins 
House.  I  shall  have  it  lifted  up  and  another  story 
put  underneath.  There  will  be  room  for  a  store 
twice  as  large  as  Strout's,  and  a  hotel  entrance  and 
office  on  the  ground  floor.  I'll  put  Hiram  Maxwell 
in  charge  of  the  store." 

"Who'll  run  the  hotel?" 

"  'Zeke  says  Sam  Hill  is  the  man  for  the  place, 
land  his  wife  Tilly  will  be  the  housekeeper,  chief 
cook,  etc." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  run  Mr.  Strout  out  of 
town?" 

"  That  is  my  present  intention.  Not  for  personal 
vengeance  but  for  the  ultimate  good  of  the  commu- 
nity." 

"  I'd  like  to  help,  but  the  work  isn't  in  my 
line." 


326   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Seriously  speaking,  Quincy,  what  is  your  line  — > 
the  law?" 

"  No." 

"Business?" 

"  No." 

"What  then?" 

"  Don't  know.     Am  thinking  it  over." 

"  Have  you  seen  that  Miss  Dana  yet  ?  " 

"  No.  Mr.  Isburn  told  me  she  is  out  West  now 
pn  an  important  case." 

"  We'll  get  her  to  find  Strout  after  he  leaves 
Fernborough.  Give  me  that  check  to-morrow  early. 
I'm  going  to  Fernborough  with  an  architect  to  have 
plans  made  for  the  alterations." 

Mr.  Strout  could  look  from  his  window  and  see 
what  was  going  on  at  the  Hawkins  House. 

"Who's  bought  the  hotel,  Abner?" 

"  Well,  Mr.  Strout,  they  do  say  it's  Mr.  Quincy 
Adams  Sawyer,  an'  that  Sam  Hill  and  his  wife 
Tilly  are  going  to  run  it." 

"  I  won't  sell  them  a  darned  thing." 

Mr.  Stiles  grinned.  "  Can't  they  buy  in  Cotton- 
ton,  or  Montrose,  or  Eastborough?  Mr.  Sawyer's 
got  stores  there." 

"  Well  they'll  want  things  in  a  hurry,  but  they 
won't  get  them  from  me." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       327 

A  month  later  Abner  rushed  into  the  store. 

"  Say,  Strout,  they're  putting  up  a  new  sign  on 
the  Hawkins  House.  Come  and  see  it." 

Mr.  Strout  walked  leisurely  to  the  window  and 
put  up  his  hand  to  shade  his  eyes.  Great  white 
letters  on  a  blue  ground. 

THE   SAWYER   GROCERY   COMPANY 

"  By  George,  Strout,  there's  going  to  be  another 
grocery." 

Mr.  Strout  did  not  speak,  but  walked  back  be- 
hind the  counter.  Abner  went  to  see  the  sign 
raising. 

Mr.  Strout  soliloquized :  "  So,  he's  going  to 
fight  me,  is  he?  Well,  I'll  spend  every  dollar  I  have, 
and  borrow  some  more,  before  I'll  give  in.  He'll 
cut  prices  —  so  will  I." 

Then  a  troubled  look  came  into  his  face. 

"  Confound  it.  My  commission  as  postmaster 
runs  out  in  a  month,  but  our  Congressman  is  a  good 
friend  of  mine." 

Opening  night  came  at  the  new  store,  Saturday 
being  selected.  Over  the  doorway  was  an  electric 
sign  — 

WELCOME   TO   ALL 

Mr.  Strout's  store  was  nearly  deserted.  About 
ten  o'clock  Abner  came  in. 


328   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  I  say,  Strout,  it's  just  scrumptious.  They  got 
three  times  as  many  goods  as  you  have.  An'  there's 
a  smoking  room  back  of  the  store  with  a  sign  over 
the  door  '  Exclusively  for  Loafers.  Loaf  and  Enjoy 
Your  Soul/  They  say  a  poet  feller  named  Whitman 
writ  that  last  part.  Saturday  morning  is  to  be  bar- 
gain day  and  everything  is  to  be  sold  at  half  price. 
And,  say,  isn't  the  hotel  fine?  Everybody  was  in- 
vited upstairs,  an'  there  was  a  free  lunch  spread 
out." 

"  Abner,  you've  talked  enough.  You'd  better  go 
home." 

The  warfare  continued  for  three  months.  At  the 
end  of  the  first,  Hiram  Maxwell,  an  old  soldier, 
was  appointed  postmaster,  vice  Obadiah  Strout. 
At  the  end  of  the  second  month  Mr.  Strout  resigned 
his  position  as  organist  and  the  gentleman  who  led 
the  orchestra  that  played  during  the  evening  at  the 
hotel  was  chosen  in  his  stead.  At  the  end  of  the 
third  month  a  red  flag  was  seen  hanging  at  the  door 
of  Mr.  Strout's  store  and  Mr.  Beers  the  auctioneer 
whose  once  rotund  voice  had  now  become  thin  and 
quavering,  sold  off  the  remaining  stock  and  the  fix- 
tures. Then  the  curtains  were  pulled  down  and  the 
door  locked.  The  next  day  Mr.  arid  Mrs.  Strout  and 
family  left  town. 

"  What's  become  of  Strout  ?  "  Quincy  asked  his 


OF  QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       329 

son,  who  had  just  returned  from  Fernborough. 
Another  month  had  passed  since  the  auction  sale. 

"  I  heard  he  was  seen  on  State  Street  a  few  days 
ago,  and  he  said  the  best  move  he  ever  made  was 
leaving  that  one-horse  country  town ;  that  he  could 
make  more  money  in  a  day  in  State  Street  than  he 
could  in  a  month  in  the  grocery  business.  It  seems 
he  has  become  what  they  call  a  curb  broker  or 
speculator." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Quincy,  "  that  Mr.  Strout  has 
found  a  more  profitable  and  congenial  field.  It 
must  have  been  very  dull  for  him  the  last  three 
months  of  his  stay  in  that  one-horse  town." 


330       THE    FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXX 

TOM,   JACK   AND   NED 

QUINCY  decided  to  have  his  company  incorpo- 
rated. This  necessitated  visits  to  the  Secretary  of 
the  Commonwealth  and  the  Tax  Commissioner. 
The  amount  paid  in  cash  capital  was  $200,000.  Be- 
sides the  four  stores  doing  business,  sixteen  more 
were  contemplated  in  Boston,  Cambridge,  Lowell, 
Lawrence,  Fall  River,  New  Bedford,  and  other 
small  cities  and  large  towns. 

The  design  was  not  to  form  a  trust  with  a  view 
of  controlling  certain  food  products  and  raising 
prices,  but  to  establish  a  line  of  stores  in  which  the 
best  grade  at  the  lowest  cash  price  should  be  the  rule. 
This  price  was  to  be  fixed  for  the  Boston  store  and 
was  to  be  the  same  in  all  the  stores. 

"  Whom  shall  I  put  in  charge  of  the  Boston  store, 
Quincy?"  his  father  asked.  "He  will  have  to  be 
general  manager  for  the  whole  circuit." 

"  I  know  a  man,"  said  young  Quincy,  "  who  is 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       331 

honest,  conscientious,  and  a  perfect  tiger  for  work, 
but  he  knows  nothing  about  the  grocery  business. 
He  has  adaptability,  that  valuable  quality,  but, 
while  learning,  he  might  make  some  costly  mis- 
takes." 

'"  I  want  you  to  act  as  Treasurer  for  the  com- 
pany. It's  your  money,  and  you  should  handle 
it." 

"  I've  no  objection  to  drawing  checks.  We 
sha'n't  have  to  borrow  any  money  for  there's  half 
a  million  available  any  time.  Why  didn't  you  have 
a  larger  capital,  father?" 

"  Because  the  State  taxes  it  so  heavily ;  but 
there's  no  tax  on  borrowed  money.  The  fellow  who 
lends  pays  that." 

"  If  I  loan  money  do  I  have  to  pay  taxes  on  it 
when  I  haven't  got  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  and  you  pay  just  the  same  if  there's 
no  prospect  of  its  ever  being  repaid." 

"  That's  funny." 

"  Funny !  Why,  our  Massachusetts  tax  laws  are 
funnier  than  a  comic  almanac,  and  about  as  sen- 
sible." 

Quincy  took  up  a  pen  and  began  writing. 

"What  are  you  writing,  father?" 

"  I'll  show  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

"How  will  that  do?" 


332      THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 

Quincy  read: 

QUINCY  ADAMS  SAWYER,  President.  QUINCY 
ADAMS  SAWYER,  Jr.,  Treasurer.  THOMAS  CHRIPP, 
General  Manager.  Cash  Capital,  $200,000. 

Cable,  Vienna.  20  Stores. 


THE  SAWYER  GROCERY  COMPANY,  INC. 

Wholesale  and  Retail. 

"  Just  the  man  I  had  in  mind,  father.  You  can 
depend  upon  him  every  time,  and  he'll  keep  his  sub- 
ordinates right  up  to  the  mark." 

Upon  his  return  to  his  native  state  Quincy  had 
found  many  of  his  old  friends  still  in  office.  The 
governor  and  higher  officials  were  only  annuals  — 
some  not  very  hardy  at  that  —  while  the  minor 
officials,  in  many  cases,  were  hardy  perennials, 
whom  no  political  hot  weather  or  cold  storm  could 
wither  or  destroy. 

A  presidential  campaign  was  on,  and  speakers, 
for  there  were  few  orators,  were  in  demand. 
Quincy's  visits  to  so  many  cities  inspecting  the 
Company's  stores  had  brought  him  in  contact  with 
hundreds  of  local  politicians.  One  day  there  came 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       333 

a  call  from  the  State  Committee  to  come  in  and  see 
the  Secretary. 

"  Do  you  want  to  do  something  for  the  party?  " 
asked  Mr.  Thwing,  the  Secretary. 

"  I  have  already  subscribed,"  said  Quincy.  "  Do 
you  need  more?  " 

"  Money  talks,"  said  Mr.  Thwing,  "  and  so  do 
you.  I  have  a  score  of  letters  from  different  cities 
asking  me  to  add  you  to  our  list  of  speakers,  and 
to  be  sure  and  let  the  writers  hear  you." 

"  I  had  no  intention  —  "  Quincy  began. 

"  You're  an  ex-governor,  and  know  all  the  State. 
Aren't  you  in  the  grocery  business  in  a  big  way  ?  " 

"  Rather." 

"  'Twill  boom  your  business  in  great  style.  Bet- 
ter even  for  groceries  than  boots  and  shoes,  for 
food  is  a  daily  consumption." 

"  I  wouldn't  go  on  the  stump  just  to  advertise 
my  business." 

"Of  course  not.  You  would  take  just  what  the 
gods  provided  and  ask  no  questions,  and  make  no 
comments.  Shall  we  put  you  down  for,  say,  twenty 
nights  ?  " 

Quincy  consented,  but  he  stipulated  that  he  was 
not  to  be  placed  in  any  city  or  town  where  he  had 
a  store. 

Mr.  Thwing  vehemently  objected.     "  Why,  the 


334   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

men  who  want  you  to  come  live  where  the  stores 
are." 

"  I  can't  help  it.  Put  me  in  the  next  town,  and 
if  they're  so  anxious  to  hear  me  they'll  come." 

After  the  campaign  was  over,  the  votes  cast,  and 
the  victory  won,  Mr.  Thwing  said,  "  That  was  a 
good  business  idea  of  yours,  Governor,  about  your 
not  going  into  the  towns  where  your  stores  were. 
Of  course  you  instructed  your  general  manager." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Quincy. 

"  Didn't  you  know  when  you  spoke  in  places  ad- 
joining those  in  which  you  had  stores  that  your 
Mr.  Chripp,  I  think  that's  the  name  —  just  flooded 
the  towns  with  circulars  announcing  that  you  were 
to  speak  and  that  you  were  the  President  of  the 
grocery  company  doing  business  in  the  adjoining 
city,  that  your  goods  were  the  best,  your  prices  the 
lowest  —  and  that  your  teams  would  deliver  goods 
free  of  charge  in  all  places  within  five  miles?  " 

Mr.  Thwing  stopped  to  take  breath,  and  Quincy 
nearly  lost  his  in  astonishment. 

"  Great  business  idea,  Mr.  Sawyer." 

"  I  knew  nothing  about  it.  I  should  have  stopped 
it  had  I  known." 

"Why  so?  You  got  a  double  ad.  Bright  man 
that  Chripp.  You'll  have  to  raise  his  salary." 

Quincy  did  not  reply.     The  deed  was  done,  and 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       335 

a  public  explanation  would  do  no  good.  Chripp 
surely  had  his  employer's  interests  at  heart,  even 
if  he  had  mixed  politics  and  business  rather  too 
openly.  The  next  month's  statement  showed  a 
great  increase  in  trade.  Mr.  Chripp  was  not  called 
to  account,  but  his  salary  was  materially  increased 
at  the  suggestion  of  young  Quincy. 

The  new  President  had  been  inaugurated,  the 
Cabinet  nominees  confirmed,  and  the  distribution  of 
political  "  plums "  began.  Quincy  felt  that  the 
lightning  had  struck  in  the  wrong  place  when  he 
\vas  approached  and  sounded  as  to  whether  he 
would  accept  a  foreign  mission.  He  talked  the  mat- 
ter over  with  his  wife. 

"  Quincy,"  said  she,  "  I  would  go,  if  I  were  you." 

"  Are  you  not  happy  here?  " 

"  Yes,  and  no.  Happy  to  be  near  my  son,  and 
relatives  and  friends;  no,  because  your  business 
takes  you  away  so  much  that  I  see  little  of  you.  If 
you  take  the  mission,  I  shall  have  you  with  me  all 
the  time.  I  am  selfish,  I  know,  but  it  is  my  love  for 
you  that  makes  me  so." 

The  Hon.  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  was  nominated 
and  confirmed  as  Ambassador  to  Austria-Hungary. 
Alice  had  made  the  selection. 

"  Let  us  go  to  Vienna,  Quincy.  It  was  there  we 
met  after  our  long  separation  —  and,  this  is  purely 


336   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

a  personal  matter,  I  wish  to  study  the  scenes  of  my 
story,  '  The  Son  of  Sergius/  at  close  range." 

Before  Quincy's  departure  it  had  been  decided  to 
lease  the  Beacon  Street  house  for  four  years.  Maude 
was  given  her  choice  but  preferred  the  house  in 
Mount  Vernon  Street  where  she  had  lived  since  her 
marriage. 

Young  Quincy  was 'obliged  to  take  bachelor  quar- 
ters which  he  found  at  Norumbega  Chambers. 

His  suite  consisted  of  a  sitting-room,  two  sleep- 
ing rooms  each  with  bath,  and  a  small  room  in- 
tended for  a  library  or  study,  and  which  was  util- 
ized by  him  as  an  office. 

Quincy  went  down  the  harbour  with  his  father 
and  mother  on  the  ocean  liner,  returning  on  the  tug 
with  Tom.  On  the  way  back  young  Quincy  took 
a  small  envelope  from  his  pocket  and  extracted  a 
short  note  which  he  had  read  at  least  a  dozen  times 
since  its  receipt.  It  was  from  Miss  Mary  Dana  and 
informed  him  that  she  had  returned  to  Boston  and 
would  be  pleased  to  see  him,  the  next  day,  at  her 
office  with  the  Isburn  Detective  Bureau. 

It  was  a  cold,  raw  day  in  the  early  part  of  April 
and  when  they  reached  the  city  Quincy  was  taken 
with  a  chill.  When  they  reached  Norumbega  Cham- 
bers the  chill  had  turned  to  a  fever,  and  Tom  sug- 
gested sending  for  a  doctor.  Quincy  stoutly  pro- 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       337 

tested  against  any  such  action  being  taken,  but  Tom 
summoned  one  despite  his  objections.  In  this  way, 
Quincy  became  acquainted  with  John  Lor  ing  Ban- 
nister, M.  D. 

Dr.  Bannister  was  unknown  to  his  patient 
when  he  paid  his  first  visit,  and  was  professionally 
non -communicative,  but  he  told  him  afterwards, 
when  their  acquaintance  had  ripened  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  the  names  Quincy  and  Jack  took  the  place 
of  more  formal  designations,  that  it  had  always 
seemed  a  wonder  to  him  that  he  had  survived. 
Quincy,  with  no  intention  of  indulging  in  flattery, 
replied  that  if  a  certain  physician  had  not  been 
called  in  he,  probably,  would  not  have  done  so. 

Quincy's  condition  on  the  second  day  was  so  low, 
indeed,  that  Dr.  Bannister  told  Tom  if  his  friend 
had  not  made  a  will  he  had  better  do  so.  Tom's 
first  thought  was  to  send  for  Mr.  Merry,  but  he 
decided  that  might  lead  to  a  charge  of  family  influ- 
ence, and  he  appealed  to  the  doctor. 

Dr.  Bannister  told  Tom  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  a  young  lawyer  and  that  he  would  send  him 
up  to  see  Mr.  Sawyer.  Quincy  was  in  such  a  con- 
dition when  Lawyer  Edward  Everett  Colbert  made 
his  first  visit,  that  if  he  had  been  asked  the  name 
of  the  principal  beneficiary  he  would  probably  have 
told  the  lawyer  to  let  it  go  to  the  Devil.  The  sec- 


338       THE   FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

ond  time  that  Mr.  Colbert  called,  Quincy' s  physical 
will  had  resumed  control  and  he  had  no  need  of 
any  other. 

When  convalescing  Quincy  said  to  Tom,  when  the 
nurse  was  absent,  "  If  you  thought  I  was  going  to 
die,  why  didn't  you  send  for  Aunt  Maude,  and  — 
and  —  you  know  whom  I  mean  —  Miss  Dana?  " 

"  I  saw  them  every  day,  but  you  were  too  weak 
to  see  them,  but  if  —  they  would  have  been  sum- 
moned." 

"  Tom,  your  head  is  so  level  that  a  plane  couldn't 
make  a  shaving." 

Tom  was  obliged  to  be  away  daytimes,  the  buy- 
ing for  twenty  stores  requiring  much  travel. 

Dr.  Bannister  and  Lawyer  Colbert  were  occa- 
sional visitors  and  Quincy  received  a  manifest 
mental  exhilaration  from  his  intercourse  with  them. 
His  sickness  had  led  him  to  think  about  the  future. 
Was  he  to  live  and  die  as  the  treasurer  of  a  grocery 
company?  Had  he  no  higher  ideal? 

A  story  told  by  Jack  and  Ned,  which  they  knew 
to  be  true,  because  they  were  the  principal  actors 
therein,  led  Quincy  to  give  himself  up  to  some 
mighty  thinking. 

The  story  was  related  one  evening  in  the  sitting- 
room  when  Tom  was  present. 

"  What  I'm  going  to  tell,"  began  Ned,  "  will  in- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       339 

elude  much  more  than  I  saw  or  knew  myself,  but 
it  all  comes  from  authentic  sources.  I  shall  omit 
names,  since  they  are  unessential. 

"  Among  my  clients  was  an  old  gentleman,  over 
seventy  years  of  age,  but  still  erect  and  vigorous. 
One  morning  I  received  a  letter  requesting  me  to 
call  at  his  house.  I  found  him  in  bed  feeling  all 
tired  out.  He  said  he  had  never  had  a  doctor  in 
his  life. 

"  The  doctor,  here,  assures  me  that  those  people 
who  never  need  a  doctor  until  they  are  well  ad- 
vanced in  life  are  not  likely  to  require  a  physician's 
services  more  than  once.  The  next  call  is  for  the 
undertaker." 

"  That's  so,"  broke  in  Jack;  "  it's  the  person  who 
is  continually  calling  upon  a  doctor  for  every  little 
ailment  who  lives  to  an  old  age,  for  instead  of  let- 
ting disease  creep  upon  him,  he  calls  for  medical 
assistance  as  soon  as  he  experiences  any  derange- 
ment of  his  physical  system.  If  all  the  people  would 
follow  this  plan,  it  would  increase  the  longevity  of 
the  human  race." 

"  And  materially  increase  the  income  of  the  med- 
ical profession,"  added  Quincy. 

"  It  proved  to  be  the  old  gentleman's  first  and  last 
sickness.  In  order  that  you  may  fully  understand 
the  \vonderful  event  which  took  place  the  night  he 


340   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

died,  I  shall  have  to  give  you  a  history  of  his  fam- 
ily." 

Quincy  consulted  his  watch.  "  It  is  now  but  a 
few  minutes  past  seven.  I  will  give  you  until  mid- 
night, my  usual  time  for  retiring." 

"  I  have  an  engagement  at  ten  or  thereabouts," 
said  Jack,  "  but  it's  a  matter  of  life  instead  of 
death." 

Ned  continued :  "  My  client  had  a  son  and  daugh- 
ter, both  married.  They  were  good  children  and 
loved  their  father  on  the  American  plan.  The  son 
had  married  an  avaricious  woman,  while  the  daugh- 
ter was  married  to  a  man  who  was  not  so  avaricious 
as  his  sister-in-law.  The  old  gentleman  was  very 
wealthy  and  like  all  good  children  they  were  think- 
ing1 of  the  time  when  the  property  would  be  divi- 
ded." 

"  I  see  signs  of  a  family  squabble,"  remarked 
Quincy. 

"  It  came  to  pass/'  said  Ned.  "  The  French  have 
a  maxim  which  says  it  is  advisable  to  search  for  the 
woman  in  all  mysterious  cases.  In  this  instance, 
the  woman  did  not  wait  to  be  searched  for  but  carne 
of  her  own  accord.  She  insisted  upon  having  the 
card  bearing  the  name  of  Mrs.  James  Bliss  sent  up 
to  the  sick  man;  when  he  saw  it  he,  in  turn,  insisted 
upon  seeing  the  woman.  The  family  wished  to  be 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       341 

present  at  the  interview  but  my  client  demanded  a 
private  conversation  which  lasted  for  an  hour. 

"  Jack  had  been  in  daily  attendance  as  a  physi- 
cian, but  I  was  not  sent  for  until  the  day  following 
Mrs.  Bliss's  visit.  He  had  told  his  son  that  he 
wished  to  make  his  will,  and  the  son  told  the  other 
members  of  the  family.  They  wished  him  to  make 
a  will,  of  course,  but  they  were  afraid  that  woman 
had  exercised  undue  influence.  As  the  son  ex- 
pressed it,  the  better  way  would  be  to  let  the  law 
make  the  decision. 

"  My  client  insisted  upon  seeing  me  alone.  He 
told  me  the  woman's  story.  Many  years  before, 
when  my  client  was  a  poor  man,  her  father  had  set 
him  up  in  business.  He  had  told  his  daughter  of 
the  loan  before  his  death,  and  her  visit  was  to  ask 
for  payment  as  she  was  a  widow  and  poor,  with 
three  children  to  support. 

"  My  client  directed  me  to  put  her  in  the  will  for 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  saying  the  original  loan  at 
six  per  cent,  would  amount  to  fully  that  amount. 

"  The  son,  when  told  the  story  by  me  made  no 
objection  to  the  bequest  but  the  son's  wife  and  the 
son-in-law  declared  that  the  note  she  had  was  out- 
lawed and  that  she  shouldn't  have  a  cent.  The  son- 
in-law  put  a  private  detective  on  her  track  who 
learned  that  Mrs.  Bliss  was  a  test  and  trance  me- 


342   THE  FUKTHER  ADVENTURES 

dium,  and  that  she  gave  materialization  seances  at 
private  houses.  The  whole  family  then  declared  her 
to  be  a  fraud  and  impostor,  and  declared  their  in- 
tention of  breaking  the  will  if  it  was  signed. 

"  Now  we  are  getting  to  the  lively  part  of  the 
story.  The  will  was  ready  for  signing.  It  was 
about  five  minutes  past  six  when  I  was  admitted  and 
I  went  right  up  to  my  client's  room.  I  had  been 
there  about  five  minutes  when  Jack  came  in.  He 
was  followed  by  the  entire  family,  the  son-in-law 
having  been  chosen  to  prevent  the  signing  of  the 
will. 

"  Then  occurred  a  sensational  episode.  Mrs.  Bliss 
came  to  inquire  about  my  client's  condition  and  the 
unsuspecting  nurse  admitted  her.  She  came  di- 
rectly to  the  room  where  we  were  all  assembled." 

"  A  strong  situation  for  a  play,"  remarked 
Quincy. 

"  They  played  it,"  said  Ned.  "  The  son-in-law 
took  Mrs.  Bliss  into  an  adjoining  room  and  ordered 
her  to  stay  there.  Then  he  returned.  This  was  to 
be  a  Waterloo  but  he  was  the  Wellington. 

"  My  client  was  propped  up  in  bed,  a  pen  placed 
in  his  hand,  while  the  document  rested  on  a  large 
book  which  Jack  held. 

"  The  son-in-law  began  the  oratory.     '  I  pro- 


OP   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       343 

test/  he  screamed.  *  This  sacrilege,  this  injustice 
shall  not  be  done  with  my  consent.'  What  was  it 
you  said  to  him,  Jack  ?  " 

"  I  told  him  unless  he  stopped  talking  in  such 
an  excited  manner,  and  made  less  noise,  it  would 
have  a  very  prejudicial  effect  upon  my  patient's 
health. 

"  The  son-in-law  then  denounced  Mrs.  Bliss  as 
an  adventuress,  and  that  she  had  no  legal  claim  upon 
his  father-in-law.  His  loud  voice  and  violent  ges- 
tures were  too  much  for  the  invalid.  The  pen 
dropped  from  his  nerveless  fingers  and  he  fell  back 
exhausted.  I  think  you  had  better  take  it  up  now, 
Ned." 

"  All  right.  You  gave  me  a  chance  to  rest  my 
voice.  Yes,  thank  you,"  as  Tom  passed  him  a  glass 
of  water. 

Ned  resumed,  "  The  door  was  opened  and  Mrs. 
Bliss  looked  in.  *  Has  he  signed  ?  '  she  asked. 

"  '  No,  he  hasn't/  yelled  the  son-in-law,  *  and 
while  I  live  he  never  shall/  Now  you  come  in 
again,  Jack." 

"  '  Ladies  and  gentlemen/  said  I, '  this  excitement 
must  stop.  As  medical  adviser  I  order  you  all  to 
leave  the  room/  They  objected,  but  I  told  them  if 
they  didn't,  I  should  resign  charge  of  the  case  and 


344   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

refuse  to  give  a  death  certificate  unless  there  was 
an  inquest.  That  frightened  them,  and  they  all  went 
out,  the  son-in-law  escorting  Mrs.  Bliss. 

"  We  propped  up  the  patient  again,  and  I  gave 
him  some  brandy.  He  said,  '  I  must  sign/  He  took 
the  pen  and  made  a  ragged,  disjointed  capital  *  T.' 

"  The  pen  dropped  from  his  hand  and  he  fell  back 
upon  the  pillow.  Ned  put  the  unsigned  will  in  his 
pocket.  I  found  that  the  end  was  very  near  and  I 
told  Ned  to  call  the  family.  Now,  it's  your  turn, 
Ned." 

"  I  told  the  family  they  had  better  go  to  their 
father's  room  at  once.  Mrs.  Bliss  arose  with  the  in- 
tention of  following  them  but  I  told  her  she  was  not 
one  of  the  family;  that  she  could  remain  with  me 
as  my  services  were  no  longer  needed.  She  turned 
to  me  and  asked :  *  Was  it  signed  ?  '  I  shook  my 
head.  Without  a  word  she  sank  upon  the  nearest 
chair  and  buried  her  face  in  her  arms. 

"  I  stood  irresolute.  The  spectacle  of  this  silent 
woman,  speechless  because  she  was  to  be  deprived 
of  what  was  justly  due  her,  was  a  situation  with 
which  I  did  not  know  how  to  deal.  I  was  saved  the 
necessity  of  saying  or  doing  anything  by  the  sudden 
entrance  of  Jack  who  cried :  '  Ned,  it's  all  over;  he's 
dead.' 

"  Now  comes  the  wonderful,  inexplainable,  part 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       345 

of  the  story.  There  was  a  single  gas-burner  alight 
in  the  room.  It  was  turned  down  low;  faces  were 
discernible,  but  the  room  was  only  half  lighted. 
Hearing  a  movement,  Jack  and  I  turned  towards 
Mrs.  Bliss.  She  had  lifted  her  head  from  the  table 
and  was  gazing  directly  at  us.  Her  eyes  were  open, 
but  they  had  a  glassy  look.  Then  it  seemed  as 
though  the  room  was  gradually  becoming  darker 
and  darker,  until  the  darkness  became  intense. 

"  My  first  thought  was  that  Mrs.  Bliss  had  put 
out  the  gas.  Before  I  had  time  to  question  her, 
Jack  and  I  caught  sight  of  a  white  spot  that  was  ap- 
proaching us  from  the  corner  of  the  room  nearest 
the  doorway  which  led  into  the  hallway.  This  light, 
which  was  no  larger  than  a  man's  hand  at  first,  in- 
creased in  size  and  intensity  until  it  covered  a  space 
at  least  two  feet  wide  and  six  feet  high.  I  must 
admit  that  my  hair  was  inclined  to  stand  on  end." 

"  And  mine  too,"  exclaimed  Jack. 

"  Suddenly,"  said  Ned,  "  the  light,  which  was 
nebulous,  began  to  fall  away  in  places  and  assume 
a  shape  like  the  form  of  a  man.  Then  the  portion 
where  a  man's  head  ought  to  be,  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  one.  Jack  and  I  clasped  hands  and 
retreated  to  the  farther  corner  of  the  room.  This 
act  on  our  part  was  purely  voluntary.  If  I  had  pos- 
sessed a  Remington  rifle,  six  Colt's  revolvers,  and 


346   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

a  dynamite  bomb,  I  should  have  backed  out  just  the 
same. 

"  We  could  not  remove  our  eyes  from  the  glitter- 
ing, moving,  thing;  and  now  a  most  surprising 
change  took  place.  The  light  seemed  to  leave  the 
figure,  so  that  it  was  not  visible  as  a  light,  and  yet 
it  filled  the  room  with  a  radiant  glow. 

"  Who  was  that  who  stood  before  us  ?  Could 
we  believe  our  eyes  ?  Were  they  playing  us  a  trick  ? 
Were  we  the  victims  of  a  too  active  imagination? 
No,  there  could  be  no  mistake.  The  form  that 
stood  before  us  was  that  of  the  man  who  lay  dead 
in  the  next  room. 

"  Turning  towards  us,  from  the  form  came  the 
~words  distinctly  spoken  — '  It  must  be  signed ! ' 
The  figure  pointed  to  the  table  near  which  Mrs. 
TBliss  still  sat  in  an  apparently  unconscious  state. 
I  took  the  will  from  my  pocket,  opened  it,  advanced 
to  the  table,  and  laid  it  thereon.  The  figure  reached 
out  its  right  hand  and  beckoned.  The  thought 
came  to  me  that  he  wanted  a  pen.  There  was  none 
in  the  room.  Jack  divined  the  situation  as  quickly 
as  I  did  and  took  his  stylographic  pen  from  his 
visiting  book,  fitted  it  for  use,  and  laid  it  on  the 
table  beside  the  will.  The  form  advanced,  took  up 
the  pen,  joined  a  small  letter  to  the  capital  '  T '  al- 
ready written,  and  finished  out  the  name  in  full. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        347 

"  The  form  then  laid  the  pen  upon  the  table  and 
pointed  to  the  places  set  apart  for  witnesses.  I 
wrote  my  name,  Edward  Everett  Colbert,  and  Jack 
put  his,  —  John  Loring  Bannister,  under  mine." 

"  Did  the  form  sit  down  ?  "  asked  Ouincy. 

"  No.  The  only  chair  near  the  table  was  the  one 
in  which  Mrs.  Bliss  sat.  I  could  not  resist  the  in- 
clination to  whisper  in  Jack's  ear :  '  What  do  you 
think  of  that?  '  We  both  turned  with  the  intention 
of  taking  another  look  at  '  That,'  but  it  had  disap- 
peared and  the  gas  was  burning  at  about  half- 
light. 

"  Mrs.  Bliss  arose  from  her  seat  with  a  pleasant 
smile  on  her  face.  '  You  said  that  he  had  signed 
it  —  I  understood  you  to  say  so,  did  I  not?  '  I  said 
nothing,  but  drew  the  will  from  my  pocket  and 
pointed  to  the  signatures.  Then  Jack  said  it  was 
his  duty  to  see  the  sorrowing  family  and  for  me  to 
escort  Mrs.  Bliss  to  a  car. 

"  Jack  and  I  took  dinner  together  in  a  private 
room  at  Young's  the  next  day.  We  decided  that  it 
was  my  duty  to  present  the  will  for  probate.  Al- 
though it  is  presumed  by  the  statutes  of  this  Com- 
monwealth that  a  will  is  signed  by  a  living  man,  I 
was  unable  to  find  anything  in  said  statutes  to  pre- 
vent a  dead  man,  if  he  were  so  disposed  and  abler 
or  enabled,  doing  so." 


348   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Of  course  the  will  was  presented  for  probate," 
said  Quincy. 

"  It  was,"  replied  Ned,  "  and  despite  the  energetic 
efforts  of  the  avaricious  son-in-law,  was  admitted. 
His  lawyer  brought  up  the  point  that  the  will  should 
have  had  three  witnesses,  but  I  showed  him  the 
note,  told  him  Mrs.  Bliss's  story,  and  declared  that 
I  would  fight  the  case  up  to  the  Supreme  Court  if 
necessary. 

"  There  was  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the  registrar 
as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  will  for  was  it  not  duly 
signed  and  witnessed  by  Dr.  Bannister,  a  physician 
of  the  highest  repute,  and  Lawyer  Colbert,  a  bright 
and  shining  light  of  the  legal  profession?" 

'"  Your  story  taxes  my  credulity,"  said  Quincy, 
"  but  I  will  not  allow  it  to  break  our  friendship. 
Tom,  kindly  ring  for  that  supper  to  be  sent  up." 
He  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Doctor,  you've  time  to 
spare.  'Tis  only  nine-thirty." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       349 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

THE    GREAT   ISBURN    RUBY 

MR.  IRVING  ISBURN,  the  proprietor  of  the  great 
detective  bureau  was  over  seventy  years  of  age,  and, 
although  he  still  had  a  general  supervision  over  the 
business,  and  was  in  his  office  for  a  short  time  any- 
way, nearly  every  day,  he  was  leaving  the  details 
more  and  more  to  his  subordinates.  From  the  very 
beginning  Mary  Dana  had  made  wonderful  im- 
provement in  her  detective  work,  and  the  results 
of  her  last  case,  on  which  she  had  been  kept  in 
the  West  for  several  months,  were  so  satisfactory 
that  she  was  given  practically  the  entire  manage- 
ment of  the  Bureau. 

One  day,  shortly  after  her  return  from  the  West, 
Mr.  Isburn  called  her  into  his  private  office.  He 
took  great  interest  in  electrical  inventions,  and  had 
one  in  his  office  of  a  decidedly  novel  design.  Back 
of  his  office  chair,  standing  against  the  wall,  just 
behind  the  door  that  led  into  the  hallway,  was  a 
mahogany  bookcase  fully  seven  feet  in  height. 


350   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Upon  the  top  were  several  valuable  statuettes,  but 
the  most  noticeable  object  was  a  rosy-cheeked  apple. 
It  was  not  really  an  apple  —  only  an  imitation  of 
one  —  made  of  brass.  Using  the  stem  as  a  handle, 
the  upper  portion  of  the  apple  could  be  lifted  off, 
forming  a  cover.  The  apple  was  fastened  firmly 
to  the  top  of  the  bookcase. 

While  talking  over  the  case  in  hand  with  her  em- 
ployer, Miss  Dana  chanced  to  fix  her  eyes  upon  the 
brass  apple. 

"  Mr.  Isburn,  why  do  you  keep  that  peculiar  or- 
nament on  the  top  of  your  bookcase  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  mean  the  apple.  It  contains  something 
that  is  very  valuable.  The  method  of  opening  it 
is  a  secret,  but  as  somebody  may  succeed  in  doing 
so  some  day  I  will  show  you  its  contents,  for  other- 
wise I  might  be  unable  to  prove  that  it  contained 
anything." 

He  opened  a  secret  drawer  in  his  desk,  inserted 
his  forefinger  ?nd,  apparently,  pressed  a  button. 
The  doors  of  the  bookcase  flew  open  as  if  by  magic, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  a  bell  inside  the  bookcase 
rang  sharply.  Miss  Dana  watched  each  motion  of 
her  employer  intently. 

"  That  is  all  done  by  electricity/'  said  he.  "  But 
it  does  something  else  —  opens  the  apple." 

He  reached  up  and  lifted  the  cover.    Then  he  re- 


OF  QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       351 

moved  something  from  the  apple  and  placed  it  in 
Miss  Dana's  hand. 

"  Oh,  how  lovely !  "  she  exclaimed. 

It  was  a  ring  made  of  the  finest  gold  and  contain- 
ing an  immense  ruby. 

"  That/'  said  her  employer,  "  I  call  the  Isburn 
Ruby.  It  belonged  to  my  mother,  and  it  is  precious 
to  me,  both  on  account  of  its  great  intrinsic  value, 
and  as  an  heirloom." 

He  dropped  it  into  the  brass  apple,  replaced  the 
cover,  and  shut  the  doors  of  the  bookcase. 

"  That  cover  can  only  be  removed  when  the  book- 
case doors  are  open;  they  can  only  be  opened  by 
touching  the  button  in  the  secret  drawer  in  my  desk, 
and,  even  then,  a  notice  of  the  opening  is  given  by 
the  electric  bell.  I  think  the  ruby  is  well  protected, 
but  if  anybody  steals  it  I  shall  call  upon  you  to  find 
the  thief." 

Miss  Dana  said,  laughingly,  that  she  feared  she 
would  never  have  a  chance  to  distinguish  herself  in 
that  direction. 

About  a  fortnight  later,  Mr.  Isburn  sat  at  his 
desk  one  morning  opening  his  mail.  He  was  so 
preoccupied  with  an  interesting  letter  containing  an 
account  of  the  very  mysterious  disappearance  of  a 
young  woman,  that  he  was  not  aware,  for  some 


352   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

time,  of  the  presence  of  a  person  who  stood  beside 
his  desk. 

He  looked  up,  suddenly,  and  saw  a  pretty  girl, 
dressed  in  picturesque  Italian  costume,  holding  a 
basket  filled  with  roses,  pinks,  and  other  cut  flow- 
ers. Mr.  Isburn  was  passionately  fond  of  flowers 
and  kept  a  vase  filled  with  them  upon  his  desk.  He 
selected  a  large  bunch  of  flowers  made  up  of  the 
different  kinds. 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  opened  and  a  clerk 
appeared :  "  Mr.  Isburn,  there  is  a  call  for  you  on 
the  long  distance  telephone." 

"  I  will  be  back  in  a  moment,"  he  said  to  the 
flower  girl,  as  he  went  into  an  adjoining  room.  The 
telephone  bell  was  being  rung  continuously,  and  he 
called  "  Hello  "  several  times  before  the  tintinnabu- 
lation ceased. 

The  call  was  from  a  town  some  fifty  miles  away. 
The  operator  informed  him  that  No.  42  wished  her 
to  tell  him  that  she  had  a  valuable  clue  in  case  T  697 
and  would  not  return  for  several  days.  Mr.  Isburn 
knew  that  No.  42  was  Miss  Dana. 

He  returned  to  his  office.  The  young  Italian  girl 
still  stood  by  his  desk  holding  the  basket  of  flowers. 
He  gave  her  more  than  the  amount  she  asked  for, 
and,  bowing  low  and  smiling,  she  left  the  office. 
Referring  to  his  call  index,  he  found  that  T  697 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        353 

was  that  of  a  young  man,  Tarleton,  belonging  to  a 
wealthy  family,  who  was  the  buyer  for  a  manufac- 
tory of  electrical  machines.  In  their  construction, 
a  large  quantity  of  platinum  was  used,  a  metal 
more  valuable,  weight  for  weight,  than  gold.  His 
purchases  had  been  very  heavy,  but  a  checking  up 
of  stock  used  showed  that  not  half  of  it  had  been 
applied  to  actual  construction.  The  question  was  — 
"What  had  become  of  the  missing  metal?"  and 
that  question  it  was  No.  42's  business  to  answer. 

Mr.  Isburn  was  a  frequenter  of  clubs  and  social 
functions,  partly  because  he  enjoyed  them,  but, 
principally,  because  many  valuable  clues  had  been 
run  across  while  attending  them. 

He  had  been  invited  to  be  a  guest  at  a  reception 
tendered  to  an  Indian  Maharajah.  He  knew  that 
the  East  Indian  princes  were  profuse  in  their  use  of 
gems  and  he  decided  to  wear  the  ruby,  for  it  was 
a  beautiful  stone  and  would  be  sure  to  attract  the 
Maharajah's  attention.  On  opening  the  brass  apple 
he  found,  to  his  astonishment,  that  the  ring  was 
gone.  Three  days  later  Miss  Dana  returned  and 
made  her  report  on  the  Tarleton  case.  The  young 
man  had  stolen  the  platinum,  sold  it,  and  lost  the 
money  in  speculation.  His  rich  father  had  made 
good  the  company's  loss,  and  there  would  be  no 
prosecution. 


354   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  He'll  be  a  bigger  criminal  some  day,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Isburn. 

"  Money  saved  him,"  said  Miss  Dana.  "  While 
I  was  in  the  town  a  workman  stole  a  pound  of  brass 
screws  —  he  is  a  poor  inventor  and  needed  them  to 
complete  a  model,  and  he  got  six  months  in  jail." 

"  Miss  Dana,  what  punishment  would  be  ade- 
quate for  the  thief  who  stole  my  ruby?  " 

She  laughed,  and  said :  "  Anybody  smart  enough 
to  do  it,  should  have  a  reward." 

"  The  reward,"  said  he,  "  will  go  to  the  one  who 
finds  and  returns  it." 

"  You  are  joking,  Mr.  Isburn." 

"  I  wish  I  were.  No,  it  is  gone.  I  cannot  imag- 
ine how  it  was  possible  for  any  one  to  get  posses- 
sion of  that  ring.  Only  you  and  I  knew  how  to 
open  the  bookcase  doors,  and  I  would  as  soon  sus- 
pect myself  as  you." 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  have  that  opinion,"  said 
Miss  Dana.  "  I  have  thought  several  times  that  I 
was  sorry  that  you  told  me  about  it,  for  I  have  felt 
that  if  anything  happened  I  should  be  an  object  of 
suspicion." 

"  Oh,  no,"  cried  Mr.  Isburn.  "  No  such  suspicion 
ever  entered  my  mind.  I  could  not  be  so  mean  and 
ungenerous  as  to  think  such  a  thing.  The  only  per- 
son I  suspect  is  an  Italian  girl  who  came  in  here  to 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       355 

sell  some  flowers.  It  was  the  day  I  received  the 
long  distance  telephone  message  from  you  in  regard 
to  the  Tarleton  case.  I  was  only  out  of  the  room  a 
few  minutes,  and  when  I  came  back  she  was  stand- 
ing just  where  I  left  her." 

"  It  would  be  like  looking  for  a  needle  in  a  hay- 
stack to  find  that  girl,"  said  Miss  Dana. 

"  Yes,  those  Italian  girls  look  very  much  alike. 
She  was  one  of  medium  height,  as  a  great  many 
women  are.  You  are  of  medium  height,  Miss  Dana, 
so  that  is  a  very  poor  clue  to  work  upon.  She  had 
dark  hair." 

"  Mine  is  light,"  remarked  Miss  Dana. 

"  I  did  not  notice  the  colour  of  her  eyes  —  prob- 
ably black." 

"  Mine  are  blue." 

"  Her  complexion  was  dark." 

"  Well,  I  surely  have  not  a  dark  complexion." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mr.  Isburn. 
"  You  talk  as  though  you  were,  in  some  way,  con- 
nected with  this  affair." 

"  But  I  am." 

"  How  so?  "  and  Mr.  Isburn's  voice  betrayed  his 
astonishment. 

"  Don't  you  remember  saying  if  the  ring  was 
lost  or  stolen  that  you  should  call  upon  me  to  re- 
cover it  ?  " 


356   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Why,  yes,  I  do  remember.  If  you  find  it,  you 
shall  have  a  big  reward.  If  found,  I  am  going  to 
give  the  ring  to  a  young  lady." 

"  Who  is  she?    Pardon  my  hasty  inquisitiveness." 

"  My  niece,  Rose  Isburn.  She  is  my  only 
brother's  daughter.  He  has  just  died  and  left  her 
in  my  charge.  Nothing  has  happened  since  I  began 
my  professional  career  that  has  so  puzzled  and  dis- 
gusted me  as  the  loss  of  that  ring.  I  thought  my- 
self acute,  and  I  am  outwitted  by  a  chit  of  a  girl. 
I  think  I'll  sell  out,  take  my  niece  to  Europe  and 
marry  her  off  to  a  Prince  or  a  Duke." 

"  Don't  do  it !  "  laughed  Miss  Dana.  "  Leave 
her  your  money,  and  let  her  choose  some  honest, 
clean,  young  American." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  are  right,"  answered  Mr. 
Isburn,  laughing  at  Mary's  half  serious,  half  comic 
air,  "  but  I  must  first  sell  my  business.  Will  you 
find  me  a  purchaser  ?  I  want  to  travel,  and  loaf  the 
rest  of  my  life.  I've  had  my  fill  of  adventure  and 
excitement." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  find  a  purchaser  while  I'm 
finding  the  ring.  As  you  say,  your  description  of 
her  is  very  meagre.  But  she  was  a  flower  girl  and 
that  is  one  point  gained." 

"  But  she  may  be  selling  oranges  or  dragging 
a  hand-organ  to-day." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       357 

"  True,"  replied  Miss  Dana,  "  and  she  may  be 
selling  flowers  again  to-morrow,"  and  the  conver- 
sation dropped. 

About  a  week  later,  Miss  Dana  entered  Mr.  Is- 
burn's  private  office.  There  was  a  smile  upon  her 
face,  as  she  cried : 

"  I  have  been  successful!  " 

"  You  usually  are,"  Mr.  Isburn  remarked,  not 
comprehending  to  what  she  alluded. 

"  You  will  be  somewhat  surprised,  no  doubt, 
when  I  tell  you  —  that  I  have  recovered  the  ruby !  " 

Mr.  Isburn  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  I  know  that  you  are  a  truthful  young  woman, 
Miss  Dana,  but,  pardon  me,  I  shall  disbelieve  your 
statement,  until  the  ruby  is  once  more  in  my  hands." 

"  I  have  not  only  recovered  the  ruby,  but  I  have 
induced  the  Italian  girl  who  took  it  —  " 

"  By  George !  "  cried  Isburn,  "  I  always  suspected 
her." 

"  I  have  induced  the  culprit,  Mr.  Isburn,  to  come 
here  and  place  it  in  your  hands." 

"  Well,  you're  a  wonder,  Miss  Dana.  You 
should  give  up  being  a  detective  and  become  a 
teacher  of  morals." 

Miss  Dana  ignored  his  suggestion.  "  I  have  her 
in  my  office  and  the  door  is  locked.  You  see,  I  have 
the  key  here,"  and  she  held  it  up  for  his  inspection. 


358   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  She  is  quite  overcome  at  being  discovered.  I 
am  going  to  talk  with  her  for  a  few  minutes.  You 
may  come,  say,  in  ten  minutes.  The  door  will  be 
unlocked  if  she  is  ready.  I  shall  be  with  her  to 
witness  the  restitution  of  your  property." 

Never  did  ten  minutes  pass  so  slowly  as  did 
those  to  Mr.  Isburn.  He  placed  his  watch  upon  his 
desk  and  watched  each  minute  as  it  slowly  ticked 
away.  When  the  time  was  up,  he  went  to  the  door 
of  Miss  Dana's  office.  He  turned  the  knob  —  the 
door  opened  at  a  slight  pressure,  and  he  entered. 
In  a  chair  by  the  window,  with  her  head  bowed,  sat 
a  young  Italian  girl.  As  Isburn  approached  her ;  he 
glanced  about  the  room,  but  Miss  Dana  was  not 
present. 

"  Signorita,"  he  said,  "  I  am  informed  that  you 
have  come  to  restore  the  ring  which  you  took  from 
me."  Then  he  noticed  by  her  side  was  the  same 
basket  in  which  she  had  brought  the  flowers,  but 
this  time  it  was  empty. 

She  rose  to  her  feet  and  looked  into  his  eyes  with 
a  glance  of  mute  appeal.  She  took  up  the  basket, 
and  walked  towards  the  door,  beckoning  to  him  to 
follow.  Without  resenting  the  incongruity  of  the 
situation,  he  did  so.  They  passed  through  the  hall- 
way and  into  his  private  office. 

She  lifted  the  cover  of  one  side  of  the  basket  and 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        359 

took  from  it  a  small  parcel.  She  removed  the  tissue 
paper  disclosing  a  bunch  of  cotton  wool.  From  this 
she  extracted  the  jewel  that  he  prized  so  highly. 

He  reached  forward  to  take  it,  but  she  drew  back. 
She  first  shut  down  the  cover  of  the  basket.  Then 
she  went  to  the  desk,  opened  the  private  drawer  and 
pressed  the  button.  The  bookcase  doors  flew  open. 
Her  next  move  was  to  place  the  basket  in  front  of 
the  bookcase.  Stepping  upon  it,  which  enabled  her 
to  reach  the  apple,  she  removed  the  cover,  and 
dropped  the  ring  into  its  receptacle,  replaced  the 
cover,  stepped  down  and  took  up  her  basket,  then 
closed  the  bookcase  doors. 

"  And  that's  how  you  did  it,"  ejaculated  Isburn, 
greatly  astonished  at  her  coolness  and  audacity. 
"  But  how  did  you  find  out  how  to  open  the  book- 
case doors? " 

"  You  told  me/'  said  the  girl  in  good  English, 
the  first  words  she  had  spoken. 

"  I  told  you?  "  he  cried. 

The  Italian  girl  had  a  fit  of  uncontrollable  laugh- 
ter. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  the  old  adage,  Mr.  Isburn, 
that  it  is  a  good  plan  to  set  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief?  " 

Isburn  sank  into  a  chair.  "  Can  I  believe  my 
ears?  Miss  Dana?  " 

*  Exactly,"  said  the  young  woman.     "  This  is 


360   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

one  of  my  make-ups.  This  is  what  I  wore  when  I 
discovered  the  clue  that  led  to  the  arrest  of  Corona 
in  that  Italian  murder  case." 

"  But  I  don't  understand  yet,"  cried  Isburn. 
"  How  could  you  be  here  as  an  Italian  flower  girl 
when  you  telephoned  me  from  a  place  more  than 
fifty  miles  away  ?  " 

"  Money  will  do  a  great  deal/'  replied  Miss  Dana, 
"  but  you  must  tell  your  subordinates  what  to  do 
for  the  money.  I  induced  the  operator  in  that  little 
country  town  to  give  you  to  understand  that  I  was 
still  there.  The  fact  was,  I  left  the  noon  before, 
located  young  Tarleton,  turned  him  over  to  the 
police,  and  was  in  the  city  by  8  o'clock.  I  told  the 
operator  to  keep  on  ringing  until  you  came  for  you 
were  very  deaf.  Pardon  me  for  that,  but  I  was 
afraid  you  would  hear  the  bell  when  the  bookcase 
doors  opened.  Now,  you  know  all,  and  I  await  my 
discharge." 

Mr.  Isburn  looked  serious.  "  Miss  Dana,  I  see 
but  one  matter  to  be  arranged  now,  and  that  is  your 
half-interest  in  the  business.  You  know  I  told  you 
that  if  you  found  the  ruby  I  would  take  you  as  a 
partner." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  a  joke,"  cried  Miss  Dana. 
"  What  I  did  was  for  fun.  I  only  wished  to  show 
you  how  the  thing  could  be  done,  and  I  beg  your 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        361 

pardon  for  causing  you  so  many  hours  of  uneasi- 
ness on  account  of  the  supposed  loss  of  your  valu- 
able ring." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Isburn,  "  I  feel  as  though  you 
should  make  some  atonement  for  the  disquietude 
you  have  caused  me.  I  shall  insist  upon  going  to 
Europe  with  Rose,  and  you  must  manage  the  busi- 
ness while  we  are  gone,  as  full  partner." 

"  The  staff  won't  take  orders  from  a  woman." 
"  Yes,  they  will,  if  you  tell  them  how  you  fooled 
me.    If  they  object  then,  call  for  their  resignations 
and  engage  a  new  force." 


362       THE   FURTHER   ADVENTURES 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

"  IT    WAS   SO   SUDDEN  " 

THE  Hotel  Cawthorne  was,  in  some  respects,  a 
correct  designation  but  in  others  a  misnomer.  It 
had  rooms  to  let,  or  rather  suites,  and  it  had  a  clerk. 
So  far,  a  hostelry.  It  had  no  dining  room,  no  bar, 
no  billiard  room,  no  news-stand,  no  barber  shop, 
no  boot-black,  no  laundry  —  and  in  these  respects, 
at  least,  it  belied  its  name. 

Some  childless  couples,  some  aged  ones  with 
married  children,  many  young  men,  a  few  confirmed 
old  bachelors,  and  a  few  unmarried  women  roomed 
therein.  On  stormy  days,  or  when  their  inclina- 
tions so  prompted,  the  tenants  could  have  meals 
served  in  their  rooms  at  a,  marked  increase  over 
hotel  rates. 

But  the  "  Cawthorne "  was  exclusive,  and  for 
that  reason,  principally,  Miss  Dana  had  chosen  it 
as  her  city  domicile.  Tenants  were  not  introduced 
to  each  other,  and  one  could  live  a  year  within  its 
walls  without  being  obliged  to  say  good  morn- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        363 

ing  "  to  any  one,  with  the  possible  exceptions  of 
the  housekeeper,  or  the  elevator  man,  but  that  was 
not  compulsory,  but  depended  upon  the  tenanr/s 
initiative. 

Every  hotel  has  an  "  out ";  at  the  "  Cawthorne  " 
it  was  an  "  in."  The  "  in  "  was  Mr.  Lorenzo  Cass, 
the  clerk  and  general  factotum.  His  besetting  sin 
was  inordinate  curiosity,  but  it  was  this  oftentime 
disagreeable  quality  which  particularly  commended 
him  to  the  ex-Rev.  Arthur  Borrowscale,  the  owner 
of  the  "  Cawthorne." 

Mr.  Borrowscale  had  not  given  up  the  ministry 
on  account  of  advanced  age,  for  he  was  only  forty ; 
nor  on  account  of  physical  infirmity,  for  he  was  a 
rugged  specimen  of  manhood  and  enjoyed  the  best 
of  health.  His  critics,  and  all  successful  men  have 
them,  declared  that  he  had  forsaken  the  service  of 
God  for  that  of  Mammon.  While  officiating,  he 
had  received  a  large  salary.  Being  a  bachelor,  he 
had  lived  economically  and  invested  his  savings  in 
real  estate.  He  was  the  owner  of  six  tenement 
houses  —  models  of  their  kind,  and  the  "  Caw- 
thorne." Before  leaving  college,  he  had  loved  a 
young  girl  named  Edith  Cawthorne.  She  had  died, 
and  at  her  grave  he  had  parted  with  her,  —  and 
love  of  women,  but,  that  sentiment  was  not  wholly 
dead  within  him,  the  name  of  his  hotel  attested. 


364   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

He  had  another  attribute ;  he  was  intensely  moral. 
The  "  Cawthorne "  was  his  pride,  but  he  had  a 
constant  fear  that  some  undesirable  —  that  is,  im- 
moral — '  person  would  find  lodgment  in  his  caravan- 
sary. For  certain  reasons,  Mr.  Cass  was  indispen- 
sable. He  had  been  a  "  high  roller  "  until  he  came 
under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Borrowscale's  tutelage. 

"  Mr.  Cass,  you  know  the  bad  when  you  see  it  — 
I  do  not.  The  reputation  of  my  house  must  be  like 
Caesar's  ghost  —  above  suspicion." 

He  had  said  "ghost."  He  had  seen  but  two  plays 
—  "  Hamlet "  and  "  Julius  Caesar,"  and  for  that 
reason  his  dramatic  inaccuracy  may  be  excused. 

So  Mr.  Cass  became  a  moral  sleuth,  and  woe  be- 
tide an  applicant  for  rooms,  and  occasional  board, 
who  could  not  produce  unimpeachable  references, 
and  point  to  an  unsullied  record  in  the  past. 

Miss  Dana's  respectability  and  social  standing 
had  been  abundantly  vouched  for,  and  her  financial 
responsibility  had  been  demonstrated  by  monthly 
payments  in  advance. 

It  was  the  first  evening  Quincy  had  been  out  since 
his  illness. 

"  Is  Miss  Dana  in  ?  "  asked  Quincy  as  he  pre- 
sented his  card  to  Mr.  Cass. 

"  I  am  quite  positive  she  is.  I  am  strengthened 
in  this  belief  by  the  fact  that  she  had  her  supper  sent 


OF    QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        365 

up  to  her  room.  A  fine  specimen  of  womanhood, 
and  a  remarkable  appetite  for  so  lovely  a  creature." 

Quincy  had  an  inclination  to  brain  him  with  the 
telephone  stand,  but  restrained  his  murderous  im- 
pulse. 

"  Will  you  please  send  up  my  card  ?  "  was  his  in- 
terrogatory protest  against  further  enumeration  of 
Miss  Dana's  charms  and  gastronomic  ability. 

"  No  need  to  do  so,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  for  he  had  in- 
spected the  card  carefully.  "  We  have  a  private  tel- 
ephone in  each  room.  Will  you  await  her  in  the 
public  parlour  ?  " 

"  Hasn't  she  more  than  one  room?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  a  three  room  suite,  sitting-room,  bou- 
doir, which  I  am  sure  she  uses  more  as  a  study,  a 
chamber  —  and  private  bath." 

Quincy  said,  "  I  would  prefer  to  see  her  in  her 
sitting-room." 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Cass.  "  Our  rules 
are  only  prohibitive  in  the  case  of  single  chambers 
or  alcove  suites,  when  the  caller  and  tenant  are  of 
opposite  sexes.  The  proprietor  —  he  was  formerly 
a  clergyman  —  is  tenacious  on  certain  points." 

"  And  so  am  I,"  was  Quincy's  response,  for  his 
temper  was  rising,  "  and  you  will  oblige  me  by  com- 
municating with  Miss  Dana  at  once,  and  informing 
her  of  my  desire  to  see  her." 


366   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Cass,  "  but  my  em- 
ployer, who,  as  I  have  said,  was  formerly  a  clergy- 
man, is  tenacious  on  another  point ;  all  tenants  who 
receive  visitors  in  their  rooms  must  have  their 
names  entered  in  a  book  prescribed  for  the  purpose, 
and  also  the  names  of  their  callers." 

Quincy's  murderous  instinct  was  again  aroused, 
but  Mr.  Cass  was  unmindful  of  his  danger  and 
made  the  required  entry.  The  humourous  side  of 
the  affair  then  struck  Quincy,  and  taking  a  memo- 
randum book  from  his  pocket,  he  said : 

"  I,  too,  am  tenacious  on  one  point.  I  never  visit 
a  hotel  for  the  first  time  without  writing  down  the 
name  of  the  clerk.  Will  you  oblige  me?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly.    Cass,  Mr.  Lorenzo  Cass." 

"  Do  you  spell  it  with  a  '  C '  ?  "  asked  Quincy, 
innocently,  as  he  pretended  to  write. 

"  Oh,  certainly.     C-a-s-s-." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Quincy. 

"  We  make  it  a  rule,  or  rather  my  employer  does, 
that  tenants  and  their  callers  shall  be  treated  with 
civility  and  their  wants  attended  to  promptly." 

Again  Quincy  eyed  the  telephone  stand  with  a 
view  to  its  use  as  a  weapon. 

"  Ting-a-ling !  Ting-a-ling!  Miss  Dana  —  yes, 
Mr.  Cass  —  Mr.  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer,  Junior, 
wishes  to  call  upon  you  in  your  sitting-room.  Is 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        367 

it  agreeable  to  you?  Very  well,  he  will  come  right 
up." 

Mr.  Cass  replaced  the  receiver  with  deliberation, 
first  unwinding  a  tangled  coil  in  the  cord. 

"  Take  the  elevator  —  third  floor  —  number  42 
—  she  insisted  upon  taking  that  suite  for  some  per- 
sonal reason  —  " 

Quincy  waited  to  hear  no  more  but  started  for 
the  elevator.  Mr.  Cass  reached  it  as  soon  as  he  did, 
and  motioned  for  the  elevator  man  to  postpone  the 
ascent  until  he  had  finished  his  remarks. 

"  The  outside  door  is  locked  at  eleven,  Mr.  Saw- 
yer, but  you  have  only  to  turn  the  upper  handle  to 
insure  an  exit." 

"  Your  clerk  is  quite  loquacious,"  remarked 
Quincy  as  they  slowly  mounted  upward. 

"What's  that?" 

"  He  has  a  sore  tongue,"  said  Quincy,  as  the  ele- 
vator door  was  closed  behind  him. 

After  cordial  greetings  on  both  sides,  for  they 
had  not  seen  each  other  for  nearly  a  year,  Quincy 
exclaimed,  as  he  sank  into  a  proffered  easy  chair: 
"  Mary,  I  am  a  murderer  at  heart." 

"  That  is  not  strange,  Quincy.  I  have  read  that 
the  friends  of  police  officers  and  detectives  often 
imbibe,  or  rather  absorb,  criminal  propensities. 
Who  is  the  intended  victim,  and  how  do  you  expect 


368   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

to  escape  arrest,  conviction,  and  punishment,  after 
incriminating-  yourself  by  a  confession  to  a  licensed 
detective?  " 

"  If  I  had  killed  your  hotel  clerk  it  would  have 
been  due  to  emotional  insanity,  and  I  should  expect 
an  acquittal  —  and,  perhaps,  a  testimonial." 

"  I  got  a  testimonial  to-day  from  Mr.  Isburn. 
He  said  I  was  a  wonder." 

"  I  agree  with  him." 

Miss  Dana  flushed  perceptibly. 

"  He  had  what  he  considered  a  good  reason  for 
his  compliment.  I  am  afraid  yours  rests  on  unsup- 
ported grounds." 

"  Not  at  all.  Have  I  not  known  you  since  you 
were  a  child?  Can  he  say  as  much?  Did  I  not 
work  with  you  on  Bob  Wood's  case?  The  help  you 
were  to  me  in  trying  to  solve  the  mystery  of  the  re- 
turn of  my  father's  bill  of  exchange  I  will  never 
forget,"  and  for  a  long  time  Quincy  and  Mary 
talked  over  the  miraculous  return  of  his  father. 

Finally  Quincy  said,  "  I  interrupted  you.  You 
said  that  Mr.  Isburn  considered  he  had  good  rea- 
sons for  complimenting  you.  Will  you  tell  me  what 
they  were?" 

"  It  is  a  long  story." 

"  I'm  all  attention." 

"  Then  I'll  begin  at  once.  If  you  need  a  stimulant 


OP   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       369 

at  any  stage  of  the  narrative,  just  signify  your  want 
and  I'll  ring  for  it." 

"Is  there  a  bar?" 

"  No,  but  there's  a  cellar." 

"  I  may  need  some  Apollinaris,"  said  Quincy,  as 
he  settled  himself  more  comfortably  in  the  easy 
chair ;  "  as  my  flesh  is  again  strong,  I  always  take 
my  spirit  very  weak." 

Mary  had  that  sweetest  of  woman's  charm  —  a 
low-pitched  voice,  and  as  she  told  the  story  of  the 
loss  of  the  great  Isburn  ruby  and  its  recovery 
Quincy's  thoughts  were  less  on  the  words  that  he 
heard  than  the  woman  who  uttered  them.  In  his 
mind  he  was  building  a  castle  in  which  he  was  the 
Lord  and  the  story-teller  was  the  Lady. 

He  was  awakened  from  his  dream  by  Mary's 
query : 

"Didn't  I  fool  him  nicely?" 

"  You  certainly  did.  And  so  he's  going  to  give 
you  a  half-interest  in  the  business.  If  he  keeps  his 
word  "  — 

"  Which  I  very  much  doubt,"  interrupted  Mary. 

"  I'll  buy  the  other  half  and  we'll  be  partners." 

He  came  near  adding  "  for  life,"  but  decided 
that  such  a  declaration  would  be  inopportune. 

"  Why  should  you  engage  in  business,  Quincy  ? 
You  are  not  obliged  to  work." 


370   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  That's  the  unfortunate  part  of  it.  I  wish  I 
were.  I  have  so  much  money  that  I  don't  know 
what  to  do  with  it,  except  let  it  grow.  But,  speak- 
ing seriously,  I've  no  intention  of  remaining  a  do- 
nothing.  I'm  treasurer  of  my  father's  grocery  com- 
pany but  I  have  no  liking  for  mercantile  business. 
I  can  give  away,  but  can  neither  buy  nor  sell  —  to 
advantage.  I  heard  a  story  not  long  ago  that  set 
me  thinking." 

"  I  told  you  my  story,  Quincy,  why  not  tell  me 
yours  ?  " 

"  I  will.  It's  a  mystery  —  unsolved,  and,  I  think, 
unsolvable.  But  I  feel  that  my  vocation  will  be 
the  solving  of  mysteries.  My  mother  wrote  detect- 
ive stories  and  I  must  have  inherited  a  mania  for 
mysteries  and  criminal  problems.  But  I'll  tell  you 
what  set  me  thinking." 

Then  he  related  the  story  that  had  been  told  him 
by  Jack  and  Ned.  As  he  concluded,  he  asked :  "  Do 
you  think  it  was  signed  ?  " 

"Of  course  it  was,  but  not  by  the  dead  man." 

"By  whom,  then?" 

"  By  Mrs.  Bliss.  She  materialized  the  form  by 
her  mediumistic  prowess,  but  she  signed  the  will." 

"  But  Jack  and  Ned  saw  the  form,  as  they  called 
it,  take  the  pen  and  write  his  name." 

"  They  thought  they  did.     She  hypnotized  them 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       371 

so  they  saw  whatever  she  impressed  upon  their 
minds." 

"  Can  sensible,  highly  educated  people  be  so  in- 
fluenced ?  " 

"  The  bigger  the  brain  the  more  easily  influenced. 
She  couldn't  have  so  impressed  an  idiot,  or  an  illit- 
erate, unreceptive  man.  Let  me  tell  you  how  a  hun- 
dred people  were  fooled  lately." 

"  I  should  be  delighted  to  hear  you  tell  it." 

"  You  should  have  sympathy  for  them,  after 
your  spiritualistic  experience,"  said  Mary  with  a 
smile. 

"  There  is  a  married  couple  in  this  city  whom  we 
will  call  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cartwright,  because  those 
are  not  their  names.  They  have  been  married  less 
than  two  years.  He  is  68  and  she  28,  so  you  see  it 
was  what  they  call  a  December  and  May  union. 
It  was  worse.  He  is  a  bank  president  and  his  god 
is  money  —  his  diversion  sitting  in  his  elegant  li- 
brary and  reading  de  luxe  editions  of  the  world's 
literary  masterpieces.  She  is  young,  and  beautiful, 
and  craves  society,  attention,  admiration. 

"  She  didn't  get  the  last  two  at  home,  but  society 
furnished  them.  He  attended  her  to  parties  and 
receptions  and  then  went  back  to  his  library  until 
it  was  time  to  escort  her  home. 

"  One  night  when  he  went  for  her  she  could 


372   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

not  be  found.  No  one  had  seen  her  leave  —  she 
had  mysteriously  disappeared.  Mr.  Isburn  gave 
me  the  case.  I'll  make  the  story  short  for  it  is 
eleven  o'clock." 

"  I  know  how  to  get  out.    Mr.  Cass  told  me." 

"  Your  knowledge  of  a  method  of  egress  does 
not  warrant  an  extension  of  your  visit  to  midnight, 
does  it  ?  "  asked  Mary  laughingly. 

"  Considering  the  attractions  presented,  I  think 
they  do,"  replied  Quincy,  banter ingly. 

She  resumed  her  story. 

"  There  was  a  man  in  the  case,  young,  hand- 
some, and  wealthy.  Just  such  a  man  as  she  should 
have  married.  They  had  planned  an  elopement  to 
Europe.  Not  together.  She  was  to  go  to  Liver- 
pool, he  was  to  follow  later  to  Paris,  and  there 
meet  her.  Quite  ingenious,  wasn't  it?  Our  agent 
at  Liverpool  was  called  to  locate  her  and  prevent 
her  inamorata  from  communicating  with  her,  at 
the  same  time  using  his  influence  to  induce  her  to 
return  to  Boston  without  meeting  her  lover.  His 
powers  of  persuasion,  I  mean  our  agent's,  must 
have  been  great,  for  she  consented. 

"  A  month  later  she  attended  a  reception  next 
door  to  the  house  from  which  she  disappeared,  and 
silenced  the  tongue  of  scandal  by  saying  that  she 
had  been  hastily  summoned  to  the  bedside  of  a  sick 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       373 

friend,  her  chum  at  Wellesley,  and  had  returned 
home  only  the  day  previous.  Her  last  statement 
was  true.  Good  detective  work  by  a  good  detect- 
ive, and  a  great,  big  white  lie  fooled  her  friends 
and  acquaintances,  but  if  I  were  her  husband  she 
would  not  lack  attention  or  admiration  in  the 
future,  and  I  would  furnish  it." 

"  When  I  get  married,  I  will  bear  your  admoni- 
tion in  mind." 

"  I  have  another  admonition.  If  you  meet  Mr. 
Cass  when  you  go  down,  be  nice  to  him.  Why, 
when  you  know  him,  he  is  a  treasure.  I  can  bear 
his  inquisitiveness,  for  it  shields  me  from  others. 
This  is  my  sanctuary,  and  Mr.  Cass  protects  me 
from  the  literary  wolves  —  the  reporters.  He 
thinks  I  am  a  writer  because  I  have  so  many  books, 
and,  to  him,  an  author  is  next  to  an  angel.  Was 
he  rude  to  you?  You  must  forgive  him,  for  he  is 
my  Saint  George  who  protects  me  from  the 
Dragon." 

Quincy  was  mollified  to  a  certain  extent.  "  Do 
I  look  like  a  Dragon?  If  I  am  one,  history  came 
near  being  reversed,  for  at  one  time  your  Saint 
George's  hold  on  life  was  frail." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  Quincy 
made  another  call  on  Mary.  He  had  telephoned 
and  learned  that  she  was  in  her  room.  Mr.  Cass 


374   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

was  temporarily  absent  from  his  desk  and  Ouincy 
went  at  once  to  the  elevator. 

"  I  axed  Mr.  Cass  about  his  tongue/*  said  the 
elevator  man. 

"  Was  it  better  ?  "  asked  Quincy. 

"  He  said  I  was  labour  in'  under  a  misapprihin- 
sion.  What's  that?" 

"  He  meant  that  it  was  improving,"  said  Quincy, 
as  he  hurried  from  the  elevator. 

"  How  did  you  get  home  last  night  ? "  was 
Mary's  salutation  as  he  entered. 

"  I  groped  my  way  down  two  flights  of  stairs  in 
the  dark.  When  I  opened  the  front  door  by  the 
upper  handle  as  Mr.  Cass  had  kindly  instructed  me 
to  do,  I  found  that  gentleman  on  the  steps.  '  Quite 
late/  said  he.  '  Not  for  me/  said  I.  At  that  mo- 
ment my  auto  drew  up  at  the  curb." 

"  A  narrow  escape  from  a  Cass-trophe,"  ex- 
claimed Miss  Dana.  "  Pardon  the  pun,  but  some- 
times he  is  insufferably  loquacious." 

Quincy  smiled  grimly.  "  He  wasn't  through 
with  me.  He  followed  me.  '  My  employer/  he 
began,  '  is  very  tenacious  on  several  points,  and  one 
of  them  is  the  acceleration  of  matrimonial  prelim- 
inaries, commonly  called  courting,  in  the  house 
which  he  owns  and  successfully  conducts  with  my 


OF   QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       375 

humble  assistance.  Will  you  allow  me  to  ask  you 
a  question  ? ' 

"  Alexander  had  opened  the  auto  door,  and  I 
stood  with  one  foot  on  the  step." 

Quincy  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Miss  Dana's 
curiosity  was  excited. 

"  What  did  he  ask  you  to  do  ?  " 

"  His  question  was  — '  are  you  going  to  marry 
Miss  Dana? ' ' 

"  Preposterous !  "  cried  Miss  Dana.  "  I  shall 
leave  the  '  Cawthorne '  to-morrow.  What  answer 
did  you  give  to  so  impertinent  a  question  ?  " 

"  I  said,  not  to-night.  Not  until  to-morrow. 
Then  I  jumped  in,  slammed  the  door,  and  off  we 
went  leaving  Mr.  Cass  fully  informed  as  to  my 
intentions." 

Mary  thought,  under  the  circumstances,  that  a 
change  of  subjects  was  necessary. 

"  I  am  working  on  the  Harrison  case.  I  don't 
believe  he  poisoned  his  wife.  I  think  the  law  killed 
an  innocent  man." 

"  Another  Robert  Wood  affair  ?  Have  you  seen 
your  little  namesake,  Mary  Wood  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  am  going  to  spend  to-morrow  in  the 
laboratory  making  toxic  analyses." 

"  I've  been  very  busy  to-day." 

"Not  working?" 


376   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  No,  getting  ready  to.  I've  bought  out  an  es- 
tablished business." 

"  You  said  you  disliked  business." 

"  Not  this  kind.  You  were  right  about  Isburn. 
He  didn't  mean  what  he  said  about  giving  you  a 
half -interest  in  the  agency." 

"  I'm  not  disappointed.  I  didn't  think  he  did. 
Why  should  he  pay  me  for  returning  what  I  took 
from  him  as  a  professional  joke?" 

"  Well  I  fixed  it  up  with  him,  and  he  will  sail 
for  Europe  with  his  niece  as  soon  as  we  can  take 
charge." 

"  We  ?    Why,  what  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Sawyer  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  I've  engaged  to  pay  Mr.  Isburn  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  for  his  agency,  a  one- 
half  interest  to  become  mine  and  the  other  half  to 
be  transferred  to  my  wife  as  soon  as  I  am  married, 
which  will  be  soon." 

"  Then  you  will  be  my  employer,"  and  Mary's 
blue  eyes  were  opened  as  wide  as  they  could  be. 

"  Within  a  week,  I  shall  be  Mr.  Isburn.  I  shall 
not  use  my  own  name." 

His  manner  changed  instantly. 

"  This  morning  I  met  an  old  college  friend.  He 
was  doing  the  historical  points  of  old  Boston  with 
his  father  and  his  father's  friend,  a  Rev.  Mr. 
Dysart  of  Yonkers,  New  York." 


OF  QUINCY  ADAMS   SAWYER       377 

Miss  Dana  started,  and  exclaimed,  involuntarily, 
"Mr.  Dysart  —  not  Mr.  Octavius  Dysart?" 

"  Yes,  that  was  the  name.  Why,  do  you  know 
him?  I'll  be  honest,  I  know  you  do." 

"  My  mother  was  born  in  Yonkers,  and  Mr. 
Dysart  was  the  clergyman  who  officiated  at  my 
father's  wedding.  He  used  to  call  on  us  whenever 
he  came  to  Boston.  But  how  did  he  know  that  you 
knew  me  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  was  going  to  Fernborough  to  see 
your  father,  and  I  availed  myself  of  the  opportu- 
nity to  mention  my  acquaintance  with  you.  He 
wished  you  could  come  and  see  him." 

"  Where  is  he?    Of  course  I  will  go." 

"  He  is  staying  with  Mr.  Larned,  my  college 
mate's  father,  who  lives  in  Jamaica  Plain,  but  he 
will  not  be  there  until  this  evening.  He's  attend- 
ing a  religious  conference  this  afternoon  and  goes 
to  Fernborough  early  to-morrow." 

"  Then  I  can't  see  him." 

"  Why  not?  I'm  going  out  this  evening  —  small 
party  invited  —  entirely  informal  —  half  my  auto 
is  at  your  service." 

"  Will  you  get  me  back  to  the  hotel  before  the 
doors  are  closed?  I  shall  pack  up  to-morrow." 

"  I  promise,"  said  Ouincy.  "  I  will  come  for  you 
at  seven  sharp." 


378   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Punctually  at  seven,  a  closed  auto  stopped  before 
the  "  Cawthorne "  and  Quincy  alighted.  Mary 
stepped  from  the  elevator,  wearing  a  new  spring 
costume  and  a  marvellous  aggregation  of  flowers 
upon  her  hat,  walked  to  the  door  without  looking 
at  Mr.  Cass,  and  before  he  could  frame  one  of  his 
employer's  tenacious  points  and  follow  her,  she  had 
been  handed  into  the  auto  and  whirled  swiftly  away. 

"Is  Alexander  driving?"  she  asked. 

"  No.  He's  asleep  —  up  too  late  last  night.  We 
have  a  strange  chauffeur.  I  selected  him  for  that 
reason." 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?" 

"  I  didn't  wish  anybody  to  know  where  we  had 
gone." 

"  Why  not,  pray?" 

"  I  mean,  what  we'd  gone  for." 

"  Nonsense.  Why,  a  friendly  call  —  what 
more?" 

"  Are  your  gloves  on  ?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't  have  time.  I'll  put  them  on 
now." 

"  No  hurry  —  plenty  of  time.  You  are  agitated. 
Allow  me  to  feel  your  pulse." 

"  You  are  funny  to-night,  Quincy." 

"  Not  funny  —  just  happy." 

Quincy  took  forcible  possession  of  her  half -re- 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        379 

sisting  hand  and  slipped  a  diamond  solitaire  on  the 
proper  finger. 

"  Why,  what  are  you  doing?  Isn't  it  a  beauty? 
Is  this  the  great  Sawyer  diamond?  Whose  is 
it?" 

"  It's  yours.  It  is  an  engagement  ring.  It's  the 
first  step  towards  keeping  my  promise  to  Mr.  Cass, 
and  he's  tenacious,  you  know.  I  told  you  all  about 
it  when  I  called  this  afternoon.  So,  please  don't  say 
'  this  is  so  sudden.'  " 

"  Are  you  crazy,  Quincy  ?  " 

"  No,  sane.  Delightfully  so.  I  told  Mr.  Cass  I 
couldn't  marry  you  until  to-day.  I  got  the  license 
this  noon." 

They  were  passing  through  a  dimly-lighted 
street,  but,  occasionally,  the  street  lamps  threw 
flashes  across  two  earnest  faces.  She  endeavoured 
to  remove  the  ring. 

"  Mary,"  said  Quincy,  "  if  you  allow  the  ring  to 
remain,  I  shall  be  a  very  happy  man,  dear,  —  for 
I  love  you.  I  have  loved  you  ever  since  the  day 
that  I  thrashed  Bob  Wood,  and  when  I  lay  ex- 
hausted, you  looked  down  at  me  with  those  beauti- 
ful blue  eyes  and  said  '  all  for  me ! '  I  am  all  for 
you,  —  are  you  for  me  ?  " 

He  put  his  arm  about  her  and  drew  her  towards 
him;  their  lips  met.  A  bright  light  shone  in  the 


380   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

auto  windows  —  but  they  were  sitting  erect  — 
they  even  looked  primly. 

"  It  is  a  long  ride/'  she  ventured. 

"  Too  short/'  he  replied,  "  and  yet,  I  wish  we 
were  there." 

Again  she  spoke :  "  This  is  a  most  unprecedented 
affair.  Can  it  be  real,  or  are  we  actors?  " 

"  We  are  detectives,  and  they  always  do  unex- 
pected and  unprecedented  things." 

"  What  will  your  father  say  —  you  a  multi- 
millionaire and  I  a  poor  girl  who  works  for  a  liv- 
ing?" 

"  My  mother  was  poor  and  blind  when  my  father 
married  her." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  she  wrote  a  book  and  became 
famous." 

"  You're  a  '  wonder  *  now,  and  you  will  become 
famous." 

"  What  will  your  friends  say  ?  " 

"If  they  wish  to  remain  my  friends  they  will 
either  say  nothing,  or  congratulate  me.  How  shall 
we  be  married  —  in  church  ?  I'll  spend  a  hundred 
thousand  on  our  wedding,  if  you  say  so." 

"  No.  As  little  publicity  as  possible.  Use  the 
money  to  help  those  poor  creatures  who  are  sick 
with  the  disease  called  crime;  that  is  the  symptom. 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER        381 

The  cause  is  often  bad  environment,  and  the  pov- 
erty which  prevents  improvement." 

"  What  a  philosopher  you  are.  That  simple 
ceremony  suits  me  exactly,  Mary.  What  a  sweet 
name  you  have.  Why  not  have  Mr.  Dysart  per- 
form the  ceremony?  We'll  be  married  with  a 
ring." 

Mary  laughed :    "  Where  will  you  get  yours  ?  " 

"  Detectives  are  always  prepared  for  emergencies. 
I  bought  them  this  noon,  after  I  procured  the  li- 
cense. They  seemed  to  go  together." 

"  Well,  Quincy,  I  think  you  are  the  most  pre- 
sumptuous mortal  in  existence.  How  dared  you  do 
such  a  thing  —  so  many  things,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Was  not  the  prize  worth  even  more  of  an  en- 
deavour ?  I  have  always  thought  Young  Lochinvar 
was  a  model  lover.  But  here  we  are." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Dysart  received  them  with  pleas- 
ant words  of  welcome,  and  reminiscences  of  life  in 
Yonkers,  and  memories  of  Mary's  mother,  held 
Cupid  in  abeyance  for  an  hour.  Quincy  passed  the 
license  to  the  clergyman  who  read  it  and  looked  up 
inquiringly. 

"  It's  all  right,  isn't  it?  "  Quincy  asked. 

"  Why  yes,  —  but  —  I  never  supposed  —  why, 
of  course  —  but  when?" 


382   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

"  Now,  at  once,"  said  Quincy.  "  We  must  be 
home  by  eleven,  for  they  lock  the  doors." 

The  simple  ceremony  was  soon  over. 

"  Can  you  give  Mrs.  Sawyer  a  certificate,  Mr. 
Dysart?" 

"  Fortunately,  yes.  I  bought  some  to-day,  for  I 
needed  them." 

He  went  into  an  adjoining  room  to  fill  it  out. 

"  Mary,  my  darling,  I  am  a  rich  man  —  richer 
than  I  deserve  to  be,  for  I  have  created  nothing  — 
but  I  would  give  every  dollar  of  my  fortune  rather 
than  lose  you.  Does  your  wedding  ring  fit  ?  Mine 
is  all  right." 

"  It  ought  to  be  —  you  had  a  chance  to  try  yours 
on." 

"  I  am  a  designing  villain,  Mary.  While  you 
were  telling  that  story  last  night,  you  will  remember 
that  I  walked  about  the  room.  One  of  your  rings 
was  on  the  mantelpiece  and  I  tried  it  on." 

When  the  clergyman  handed  Mrs.  Sawyer  the 
certificate,  Quincy  passed  him  his  fee. 

"  You've  made  a  mistake,  Mr.  Sawyer.  This  is 
a  hundred  dollar  bill." 

"  It  ought  to  be  a  thousand.  I'll  send  you  a  check 
for  the  difference  to-morrow  —  for  yourself,  or 
your  church,  as  you  prefer." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS   SAWYER       383 

As  they  descended  the  steps,  the  clergyman 
raised  his  hands. 

"  I  wish  you  both  long  life  and  prosperity,  and 
may  Heaven's  blessing  fall  upon  you." 

"  Back  to  the  '  Cawthorne/  "  said  Quincy,  as  he 
pressed  a  small  roll  of  paper  into  the  chauffeur's 
hand  —  which  roll  of  paper  a  friendly  street  light 
showed  to  be  a  five  dollar  bill. 

"  What  will  that  horrid  Mr.  Cass  say?" 

"  I'll  fix  him,"  replied  Quincy.  "  Just  await  de- 
velopments, patiently,  my  dear." 

It  was  a  quarter  of  eleven  when  they  reached  the 
hotel.  Mr.  Cass  was  at  his  desk,  the  light  turned 
down  in  anticipation  of  the  closing  hour. 

"  The  certificate,  darling,"  Quincy  whispered. 

"  Please  turn  up  the  light,  Mr.  Cass,  and  read 
that." 

Mr.  Cass  adjusted  his  pince-nez.  Quincy  was  re- 
lentless. His  turn  had  come. 

"  Is  that  in  proper  form,  Mr.  Cass?  I  know  your 
rules  are  strict,  and  that  your  employer  holds  you 
to  them  tenaciously,"  and  there  was  a  strong  accent 
on  the  last  word. 

"  Would  your  reverend  employer  object  to  your 
harbouring  a  newly-married  couple  for  one  night? 
Show  him  your  wedding  ring,  Mrs.  Sawyer.  We 
must  satisfy  his  moral  scruples." 


384   THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES 

Mr.  Cass  regarded  them  attentively.  Then  he 
said,  slowly :  "  I  anticipated  such  a  result,  but  wasn't 
it  rather  sudden?" 

"  We  shall  lose  the  elevator,"  cried  Mary.  "  It 
shuts  down  at  eleven." 

"  Shall  we  go  on  a  tour  ?  "  asked  Quincy  the  next 
morning. 

"  I  can't  leave  the  Harrison  case.  I  must  follow 
a  clue  this  morning." 

"Where  shall  we  live,  Mary?  In  grandfather's 
house  on  Beacon  Street,  or  shall  I  build  a  new  one  ? 
I'll  make  it  a  palace,  if  you  say  so." 

"  Well,  I  sha'n't  say  so  —  but  let's  live  anywhere 
but  here." 

"  We'll  bid  Mr.  Cass  a  long  farewell  —  but  I 
admire  his  tenacity.  He's  a  sort  of  moral  bull-dog. 
I  might  use  him  in  my  business." 

"  Our  business,  Quincy." 

"  That's  so  —  we  are  partners  professionally,  and 
lovers  ever." 

As  she  disengaged  herself  from  his  embrace, 
Mary  exclaimed :  "  I've  planned  a  model  honey- 
moon for  us,  Quincy.  You  must  go  over  the  Har- 
rison case  with  me.  I'm  sure  we  can  prove  that 
he  was  an  innocent  man,  and  — 

"  We'll  find  the  real  criminal,  Mary,  and  bring 
him  to  justice." 


OF   QUINCY   ADAMS    SAWYER        385 

"  It  will  be  a  long  and  tedious  investigation.  I 
may  have  to  visit  every  drug  store  in  the  city." 

*'  That's  easy.  I'll  buy  you  a  touring  car  —  I 
will  act  as  chauffeur  —  " 

"  Why  a  touring  car  —  why  not  a  runabout  just 
for  two?" 

"  As  you  say,  my  dear.  Your  word  is  law  — 
or  the  next  thing  to  it.  By  the  way,  Mary,  we  must 
live  on  Beacon  Street." 

"Why,  must?" 

"  Because  Mr.  Strout  has  bought  a  house  on 
Commonwealth  Avenue,  and  we  must  keep  the  line 
drawn  sharp  between  the  old  families  and  the  nou- 
vcaux  riches! " 


THE   END. 


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GRET:    The  Story  of  a  Pagan.    By  Beatrice  Mantle.    Illustrated 

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The  wild  free  life  of  an  Oregon  lumber  camp  furnishes  the  setting  for  this 
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OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
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A  vivid  yet  delicate  portrayal  of  characters  in  an  old  New  England  town. 

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REBECCA  MARY.     By  Annie  Hamilton  Donnell.     Illustrated 
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The  heart  tragedies  of  this  little  girl  with  no  one  near  to  share  them,  are 
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An  Irish  story  of  real  power,  perfect  in  development  and  showing  a  true 
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THE  MAN  FROM  BRODNEY'S.  By  George  BarrMcCutcheon. 
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An  island  in  the  South  Sea  is  the  setting  for  this  entertaining  tale,  and 
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TOLD  BY  UNCLE  REMUS.  By  Joel  Chandler  Harris.  Illus- 
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Again  Uncle  Remus  enters  the  fields  of  childhood,  and  leads  another 
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THE  CLIMBER.    By  1,.  F.  Benson.     With  frontispiece. 

An  uBsparing  analysis  of  an  ambitious  woman's  soul— a  woman  who 

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LYNCH'S  DAUGHTER.    By  Leonard  Merrick.    Illustrated  by 

Geo.  Brehm. 

A  story  of  to-day,  telling  how  a  rich  girl  acquire?  ideals  of  beautiful  and 
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A  Few  that  are  Making  Theatrical  History 

MARY  JANE'S  PA,     %  Norman  Way,    Illustrated  with  scenes, 
from  the  play. 


CHERUB  DEVINE.    By  Sewell  Ford. 

**  Cherub,"  a  good  hearted  but  not  over  refined  young  man  is  brough.  if. 
touch  with  the  aristocracy.  Of  sprightly  wit,  he  is  sometimes  a  merciless 
Analyst,  but  he  proves  in  the  end  that  manhood  counts  for-more  thaa  at>ci 
jat  lineage  by  winning  the  love  of  the  fairest  girl  in  the  flock. 

A  WOMAN'S  WAY.     By  Charles  Somerville.    Illustrated  with 

scenes  from  the  play. 

A  story  in  which  a  woman's  wit  and  self-sacrificing  love  save  her  husband 
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THE  CLIMAX.    By  George  C.  Jenks. 

With  ambition  luring  her  on,  a  young  choir  soprano  leaves  the  little  village 
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ipera  in  New  York.  She  leaves  love  behind  her  and  meets  love  more  ardent 
Hit  not  more  sincere  in  her  new  environment.  How  she  works,  how  she 
gaudies,  how  she  suffers,  are  vividly  portrayed. 

A  FOOL  THERE  WAS.     By  Porter  Emerson  Browne.     Illus- 
trated by  Edmund  Magratk  and  W.  W.  Fawcett 
A  relentless  portrayal  of  the  career  of  a  man  who  C9mes  under  the  influence 
if  a  beautiful  but  evil  woman:  how  she  lures  him  on  and  on,  how  ha 
struggles,  falls  and  rises,  only  to  fall  again  into  her  net,  make  a  story  of 
jnfhnching  realism. 

THE  SQUAW   MAN.     By  Julie  Opp  Faversham  and  Edwin 

Milton  Royle.    Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  globing  story,  rapid  in  action,  bright  in  dialogue  withafiue  courageous 
hero  and  a  beautiful  English  heroine. 

THE  GIRL  IN  WAITING.     By  Archibald  Eyre.     Illustrated 

with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  droll  little  comedy  of  misunderstandings,  told  with  a  light  touch,  a  ven 
turesome  spirit  and  an  eye  for  human  oddities, 

THE   SCARLET   PIMPERNEL     By  Baroness  Orczy.     Illu& 

trated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 

A  realistic  story  of  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  abounding  it 
dramatic  incident,  with  a  young  English  soldier  of  fortune,  daring,  mysteri- 
ous as  the  hero, 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSE1    &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

THE  MUSIC  MASTER.    By  Charles  Klein,     illustrated 

by  John  Rae. 

This  marvelously  vivid  narrative  turns  upon  the  search  o," 
man  musician  in  JNew  York  for  his  little  daughter.    Mr.  Klein 
well  portrayed  his  pathetic  struggle  with  poverty,  his  varied  expe- 
riences in  endeavoring  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  public  not  trained 
to  an  appreciation  of  the  classic,  and  his  final  great  hour  when,  in 
the  rapidly  shifting  events  of  a  big  city,  his  little  daughter,  nov  a 
beautifnl  young  woman,  is  brought  to  his  very  door.    A  superb  bit 
of  fiction,  palpitating  with   the   life  of  the  great  metropolis.    The 
play  in  which  David  Warfield  scored  his  highest  success. 

DR.    LAVENDAR'S    PEpPLE.      By    Margaret  Deland. 
Illustrated  by  Lucius  Hitchcock. 

Mrs.  Deland  won  so  many  friends  through  Old  Chester  Tales 
that  this  volume  needs  no  introduction  beyond  its  title.  The  lova- 
ble doctor  is  more  ripened  in  this  later  book,  and  the  simple  come- 
dies and  tragedies  of  the  old  village  are  told  with  dramatic  charm. 
OLD  CHESTER  TALES.  By  Margaret  Deland.  Illustrated 
by  Howard  Pyle. 

Stories  portraying  with  delightful  humor  and  pathos  a  quaint  peo- 
ple in  a  sleepy  old  town.  Dr.  Lavendar,  a  very  human  and  lovable 
"preacher,"  is  the  connecting  link  between  these  dramatic  steles 
from  life, 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE.    By  E.  P.Xoe. 
With  frontispiece. 

The  hero  is  a  farmer— a  man  with  honest,  sincere  views  of  life. 
Beieft  of  his  wife,  his  home  is  cared  for  by  a  succession  of  domes- 
tics of  varying  degrees  of  inefficiency  until,  from  a  most  unpromis- 
ing source,  comes  a  young  woman  who  not  only  becomes  his  wife 
but  commands  his  respect  and  eventually  wins  his  love,  A  bright 
and  delicate  romance,  revealing  on  both  sides  a  love  that  surmounts 
all  difficulties  and  survives  the  censure  of  friends  as  well  as  the  bit- 
terness of  enemies. 
THE  YOKE.  By  Elizabeth  Miller. 

Against  the  historical  background  of  the  davs  when  the  children 
of  Israel  were  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  Eccypt,  the  author  has 
sketched  a  romance  of  compelling  charm.  A  biblical  novel  as  great 
as  any  since  "  Ben  Hur." 

SAUL  OF  TARSUS.    By  Elizabeth  Miller.    Illustrated  by 
Andr£  Castaigne. 

The  scenes  of  this  story  are  laid  in  Jerusalem,  Alexandria,  Rome 
and  Damascus.  The  Apostle  Paul,  the  Martyr  Stephen,  Herod 
Agrippa  and  the  Emperors  Tiberius  and  Caligula  are  r.raong  the 
mighty  figures  that  move  through  the  pages.  Wonderful  descrip- 
tions, and  a  love  story  of  the  purest  and  noblest  type  mark  this 
most  remarkable  religious  romance. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORIC 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

BRUVVER  JIM'S  BABY.     By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels. 

An  uproari9usly  funny  story  of  a  tiny  mining  settlement  in  the 
West,  which  is  shaken  to  the  very  roots  by  the  sudden  possession 
of  a  baby,  found  on  the  plains  by  one  of  its  residents.  The  town  is 
as  disreputable  a  spot  as  the  gold  fever  was  ever  responsible  for, 
and  the  coming  of  that  baby  causes  the  upheaval  of  every  rooted 
tradition  of  the  place.  Its  christening,  the  problems  of  its  toys  and 
its  illness  supersede  in  the  minds  of  the  miners  all  thought  of  earthy 
treasure. 

THE  FURNACE  OF  GOLD.  By  Philip  Verrill  Mighels* 
author  of  "Bruvver  Jim's  Baby."  Illustrations  by  J.  N- 
Marchand. 

An  accurate  and  informing  portrayal  of  scenes,  types,  and  condL 
tions  of  the  mining  districts  in  modern  Nevada. 

The  book  is  an  out-door  story,  clean,  exciting,  exemplifying  no- 
bility and  courage  of  character,  and  bravery,  and  heroism  in  the  sort 
of  men  and  women  we  all  admire  and  wish  to  know. 
THE  MESSAGE.    By  Louis  Tracy.  Illustrations  by  Joseph 
C.  Chase. 

A  breezy  tale  of  how  a  bit  of  old  parchment,  concealed  in  a  figure- 
jiead  from  a  sunken  vesselj  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl  and  an  army  man  during  regatta  week  in  the  Isle  of  Wight 
This  is  the  message  and  it  enfolds  a  mystery,  the  development  of 
which  the  reader  will  follow  with  breathless  interest. 
THE  SCARLET  EMPIRE.  By  David  M.  Parry.  Illus- 
trations by  Hermann  C.  Wall. 

A  young  socialist,  weary  of  life,  plunges  into  the  sea  and  awakes 
•in  the  lost  island  of  ^Atlantis,  known  as  the  Scarlet  Empire,  where 
a  serial  democracy  is  in  full  operation,  granting  every  man  a  living 
but  limiting  food,  conversation,  education  and  marriage. 

The  hero  passes  through  an  enthralling  love  affair  and  other  ad- 
ventures but  finally  returns  to  his  own  New  York  world. 
THE  THIRD  DEGREE.    By  Charles   Klein  and  Arthur 
Hornblqw.     Illustrations  by  Clarence  Rowe. 

A  novel  which  exposes  the  abuses  in  this  country  of  the  police 
System. 

The  son  of  an  aristocratic  New  York  family  marries  a  womar* 
socially  beneath  him,  but  of  strong,  womanly  qualities  that,  latei 
on,  save  the  man  from  the  tragic  consequences  of  a  dissipated  life. 

The  wife  believes  in  his  innocence  and  her  wit  and  good  sense 
help  her  to  win  against  the  tremendous  odds  imposed  by  law. 
THE  THIRTEENTH   DISTRICT.    By  Brand  W  hi  flock. 

A  realistic  western  story  of  love  and  politics  and  a  searching  study 
of  their  influence  on  character.  The  author  shows  with  extraordi- 
nary vitality  of  treatment  the  tricks,  the  heat,  the  passion,  the  tu- 
mult of  the  political  arena  the  triumph  and  strength  of  love. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST, 26th  STV,  NEW  YORK 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Lot  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


p'D  in-iiRi 

JAN  i  ?  B90 


L  005  836  078  5 


